


Shell Shocked

by pamz



Series: A Shocking Trilogy [1]
Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Consensual Sex, F/M, Hostage Situations, Maximum Waige, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Quintis - Freeform, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-05-15 14:25:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 24,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5788720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pamz/pseuds/pamz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU set after the episode "Da Bomb" (2x15) but before "Fractured" (2x16). Paige tries to take some time away from Scorpion and Walter following his disastrous date, but a simple mission that forces her and Walter to work alone together explodes into something much bigger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my 1st attempt at a Scorpion fanfic. But it's by far not my first fanfic. I've been writing fics exclusively for another show for almost 25 years. I almost feel like I'm cheating on it. 
> 
> Well, anyway, hope you enjoy and if there are any errors (there are always errors), let me know. Thanks.

****

Walter glanced over at the boy sleeping on the sofa. The garage was quiet except for the sounds of Ralph's mother tidying up her already tidy desk. He sensed that she wanted to talk to him but at the same time reluctant to do so. And thanks to her, his heightened EQ told him exactly why she was being hesitant. As casually as he could, Walter strolled over to Paige.

"I am sorry," he began. "I know those words are inadequate and. . ."

"Yes, they are," she interrupted. Paige set down the file she had been holding and turned to face him. "You hurt me, Walter. I feel betrayed, even though I have no right to feel that way. Yet I do. It's still just as painful."

"I know. And I know now what I did was stupid." He rubbed his hand over his face as he considered just how stupid he had been. First with the speed dating, then going out on a date with another woman that almost ended in her being blown up. When the only woman he wanted was standing there before him. His justification that he wanted to know if what he felt for Paige was an aberration, to see if another woman's kiss would affect him the way Paige's did, now sounded lame and. . .well, stupid.

"I am trying to understand what you did," she said. "But I'm having trouble processing it." Walter had to suppress a smile as that sounded like something he would say. He and the other geniuses were rubbing off on her more than she realized. "You've been confusing me for months," she continued, "saying we should remain friends and colleagues, then saying we should explore our feelings, then partying with another woman at a bar. . ."

"That's not fair," he cut in. "She was paid to set me up."

"Yes, and you were an easy target." Paige folded her arms over her chest. "When I said you should socialize more with other people, I didn't mean getting drunk in a bar and inviting strange women into your room. I didn't mean going on a date with a woman who nearly got us all killed." She shook her head. "It's always one extreme or the other with you. You're blowing hot one day and cold the next. She took a step toward him, biting her lip. "I. . .I thought we shared certain feelings." 

Walter noticed the tears in her eyes, knowing he was the reason why they were there. _She loves me_ , he thought, _and I hurt her._ Megan had told him not to be afraid to love. But he was, he always had been. Love was an intangible he never believed in. Until now.

"I. . .we. . ." he began but was interrupted by the banging of a door. 

"Paige?"

_Oh no, no, no, no, no,_ thought Walter. _Not Drew, not now._ Panic knifed through his body as he saw the other man step inside the garage.

"Drew? What are you doing here?" Paige hastily dried her eyes and greeted her ex, who stood near the door, seemingly hesitant to come any closer.

"I said I was going to be in LA this week. Didn't you get the message I left here at Christmas?" 

Paige twirled around and glared at Walter, who bowed his head guiltily. "What did you do?" she asked, although she already knew the answer.

"I erased his message," he confessed. "I shouldn't have. I don't know why I did it."

"Liar." she said accusingly. "I think you do but you're too much of a coward to admit it." She scooped up her coat and bag and continued in a low voice. "Until you're ready to tell me the truth, I think. . .I think I need some time away from Scorpion. And you." She turned to face Drew, pasting a obviously false smile on her face. "Do you have a place to stay?"

"I‘ve booked the motel I've stayed in before," Drew replied cautiously, glancing from her to Walter then back.

"You don't need to do that," she said cheerfully. "You can stay with us. I'm sure Ralph will love it."

"Okay, sounds great." He glanced over to where his son was sleeping. "I can carry him out to the car. . . if you're ready to go."

"Yes, I'm ready to go," Paige said, staring at Walter. "I'm done here." She spun back around and walked toward the other man.

Holding onto the edge of her desk to steady himself, Walter watched as Drew picked up Ralph from the couch and carried him toward the door while Paige snatched up her son's backpack and the three of them left the garage. 

He sat down in Paige's chair as the door closed. Had he just pushed Paige back into Drew's arms because of his stupid experiment that had almost literally blown up in his face, just because he didn't want to admit he was wrong about love? Walter buried his head in his hands.

Had he caused a fracture he wasn't sure how to mend? 

Or he had fractured it so badly it never could be mended?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this was supposed to be a one-shot AU ending for the episode "Da Bomb". I never planned to add more chapters when I originally posted. Well, that has changed. I have an idea for at least one more chapter after this one, maybe another one after that. I do enjoy multiples of 5 so if I can squeeze 5 chapters out of this, my OCD will be happy. I hope you enjoy.  
> ______________________________________________________________________________________________

"Why don't you drive?" Paige said after Drew had deposited their son into the back seat of her car and had strapped him in.

"Sure." He took the keys she held out to him and walked around to the driver's side of the vehicle. Paige got in on the other side, taking a deep breath. She was too upset to be behind the wheel. The awful scene with Walter kept replaying in her head. She shouldn't have said what she had said. But she had been jealous, had felt betrayed, especially when she had overheard him asking Linda for a second date. For a moment she had been glad that the other woman had turned him down. For a moment. Then she had grown angry that Linda had failed to see the special person who was Walter O'Brien. 

Paige had been so caught up in her thoughts that she was surprised when Drew stopped the car and she realized they were at the condo.

"I'll carry Ralph up," he offered as they started to get out of the car. 

"I'm awake," the boy said before unbuckling his seat belt. "Hi, Dad."

"Hey, Ralph." 

"I forgot to tell you Dad was coming this week to do some scouting," her son said after they had all emerged from the vehicle. "Sorry, Mom."

"That's okay, honey," she said in an airy tone that hid her inner turmoil. 

An hour later, Ralph was asleep in his bed, and Paige had directed Drew to the spare bedroom, apologizing for its cluttered appearance. "We just kind of toss stuff in here when we can't find another place for it," she stated as she picked up spare robot parts that were strewn about the bed's comforter.

"It's fine, Paige," Drew reassured. "I've stayed in worse places." He smiled nervously. "Do you want to tell me what I walked in on back at the garage?"

"No." Startled by the sudden change in subject, she was even more surprised that he had picked up on the tension between her and Walter. But, she told herself, Drew had a normal amount of EQ. Maybe she had spent so much time around people with little to no emotional quotient, she had come to expect that everyone was like them, instead of the other way around.

"I can tell it's still bothering you," he pointed out as he placed his duffel bag on the floor. "And I can be a good listener."

That was true. She had always been able to confide in him when they had been together. It had just been so long since she had trusted anyone else, she had lost the habit of unburdening her problems. 

"It's just been a rough day,"she began, "We found out our former Homeland handler was a traitor who tried to force us to commit sabotage by strapping a bomb to a woman and threatening to blow her up."

"A woman?" Drew asked. "Not you?" Paige shook her head. "The angry little mechanic, whatshername?"

"Happy? No, not Happy." She wrapped her arms around her waist. "No, a woman Walter went on a date with last night."

"Walter went on a date?" Drew's tone was full of disbelief. "With someone besides you? And you're okay with that?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?" Paige had hoped her response would sound like she didn't care, but even she could hear the bitterness underneath her words.

"I could hear the both of you through the door before I came in. You didn't sound okay with it at all."

Paige sighed. "Just leave it alone, Drew. I don't want to talk about it anymore."

He sat down on the bed, bouncing on it a couple of times. "Paige, I know that you and Walter have some kind of odd relationship. I certainly don't understand it and I think neither of you do either." He held up his hands as she opened her mouth. "There's a weird feeling in the air when you two are together. I'm surprised I don't see sparks shooting off of you."

She stared in amazement at her ex. When had he become so perceptive? "There's nothing between Walter and me," she said dismissively. "He's just helping me understand Ralph. He's my boss. We're just professional colleagues, nothing more."

Drew shook his head. "Colleagues," he repeated with a laugh. "That's not what I saw tonight. I think you both have feelings for each other and you're both lying to yourselves that you don't. Hey, if you need me to make O'Brien jealous. . ."

"Don't make me regret inviting you to stay," Paige warned, signaling that the conversation was at an end.

"Okay, okay," Drew laughed, getting to his feet again. "I'll mind my own business while I'm here. And I do really have to get up early to check out a couple of pitching prospects. So, good night."

"Good night." Paige backed out of the room, turning when she entered the hallway. With a wave, Drew closed the door behind her.

_Dammit_. She was lying to Drew, lying to Ralph, lying to Walter, and worst of all, lying to herself. She loved that stupid genius with the one ninety-seven IQ. And she had no idea what she was going to do about it.


	3. Chapter 3

He couldn't believe he had messed up so badly. 

Walter automatically made a pot of coffee the next morning, not realizing he had added a tablespoon of cinnamon until its spicy aroma filled the air. Cursing under his breath, he dumped the coffee, filter and all, into the trash can next to the counter, and started the process over again, this time sans the cinnamon. Which really didn't matter because the scent of it still lingered in the air. Reminding him of Paige and how stupid he had been.

He shouldn't have erased that message. He shouldn't have gone speed dating. He shouldn't have agreed to go on a date with Linda, especially since he had no real interest in her. He shouldn't have to make himself into something he wasn't, just to please other people. 

He shouldn't think of Paige day and night. Her smile, her eyes, her laugh, her kindness, her lips. . . They were colleagues. Friends. Colleagues slash friends shouldn't dream of each other the way he dreamt of her every night. 

Except last night. Images of Paige and Drew, doing all the things he wanted to do with her, had haunted him whether he had been conscious or asleep. His stomach still felt queasy at the thought of the disquieting pictures that had filled his mind.

A loud click startled him from his thoughts and he saw that the coffee was ready. Pouring himself a cup, he wandered over to his desk, where he sat down and stared at his blank computer screen.

The door to the garage was thrown open and Happy, Toby, and Sylvester came filing inside. The human calculator came bustling up to Walter, holding a piece of paper. 

"Where's Paige and Ralph?" he asked worriedly, glancing around the building. "Ralph and I were supposed to go over our checklist for his field trip this weekend before he went to school."

Walter got to his feet, nervously taking a sip of his coffee before speaking. "Paige is taking some time off. She won't be coming in the rest of the week," he announced.

"How am I supposed to. . ." Sly began before Toby cut him off.

"And why is Miss Dineen taking the rest of the week off?" he inquired. 

"It's none of your business, moron." Happy had gone over to her workbench and picked up a hammer. She gave a piece of metal a couple of good whacks. "Hey, Walt, when she gets back, can I take a few days?"

"No."

"Why not?" Toby asked before Happy could open her mouth. "Why is Paige getting special treatment?"

"She's not."

"Then why can't Happy have time off?" Toby turned to the mechanic. "So, do you have anything planned or is this spur of the moment? I love spur of the moment." He waggled his eyebrows.

"Sicko." Happy went back to hammering out a dent in piece of motorcycle fender.

"She just can't. Okay?" Walter sat back down in his chair and turned on his laptop. 

"No, not okay." Toby practically skipped across the room to sit on the corner of Walter's desk. "You're upset. Did you and our liaison have words last night? Is that why she's not here today?"

"No."

"You know, Walter, when I said you should get a blow up doll, I did not mean it literally." The doctor smirked as Sly's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "I think Paige was upset about your date. I heard the comments she made when she thought no one was listening. She was not happy."

"No one is except me." Happy shouted from her side of the garage.

"She did seem, well, a bit snippy yesterday," Sylvester chimed in. "I guess I'll have to give her a call about this weekend."

"No!" Walter jumped to his feet, nearly knocking over his mug. "Do not call her. She doesn't want to be disturbed."

"And how do you know that?" Hopping off the desk, Toby stared at his boss. "Why wouldn't she want us to call. . .unless she's not alone. Ha, you tightened your lips. She's not alone."

"Dammit, Toby, can't you just leave it alone?" yelled Walter. Sly and Happy both glanced up sharply at his unexpected outburst, shocked expressions on their faces.

"Well, now I can't." The shrink tapped his index finger to his lips. "Who would put you in such an almighty temper? Who . ." Toby's mouth dropped open and he was silent for ten whole seconds. "Oh my God, it's Drew. He's back in town."

"So what if he is?" asked Walter defiantly. "He's Ralph father. He has a right to visit his son."

"Of course, he does, no one is saying the schmuck doesn't," Toby agreed. "But you're worried he's here to see more than just Ralph. You're worried Paige might go out with her ex, maybe rekindle the old flame. A little tit for tat." He giggled.

"Sicko" Happy said again as she sauntered up to the desk. "I don't think it's any of our business. But. . ." She punched Toby lightly on the shoulder. "I don't think she would ever get back together with Drew."

"Ow. And how would you know this, if I may ask? I thought I was the psychiatrist here." Toby rubbed his upper arm in an exaggerated manner.

"Female instinct. She's cut her losses with Drew and moved on." Happy shrugged. "Once that happens, there's usually no going back. Plus she's not the revenge type. She's not mean enough."

"Well, excuse me, Doctor Quinn," said Toby sarcastically. "Maybe you should be our new medicine woman." He tried to put his hat on her head, but she swatted it halfway across the room before he could.

"Enough," Walter declared as Toby scurried after his headgear. "We have work to do. I suggest we all get to it."

He sat back down in his chair and began typing away on his keyboard. Nothing but gibberish, of course. Peeking over his screen, he saw the others returned to their workplaces. Good. Everything was back under control. Then he made the mistake of looking at the empty desk across from his.

Dammit.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am re-writing portions of this story because I found a fatal flaw in it after I posted chapter 6. This chapter is basically the same as before, but with the added conversation between Paige and Sylvester.

Paige had forgotten what it was like to have a man in the house. Of course, Ralph was a male. But he was of the smaller and still trainable variety. He knew to put his dirty clothes in the hamper and dirty dishes in the sink. He knew to put the cap back on the toothpaste. He knew to close both the seat and the lid of the toilet so there were no cold, wet surprises in the middle of the night. 

She absently rubbed her tail bone, wincing a little when her fingers touched the still tender area. How had she not remembered what a horrible slob Drew was? If he hadn't abandoned her, she was now sure she probably would have killed him. It had to be a combination of years living on the road, eating at restaurants, and sleeping in motels, plus a mother who had waited on him hand and foot. Mrs Baker was a nice woman, but she clearly had done her son no favors by not making him clean up after himself.

Ralph was at school. Drew was out scouting prospects, leaving her home by herself to repair the destruction he had left behind. She entered the bathroom, the site where most of his chaos took place. Was that. . .? Oh God, he had peed on the floor. Seriously. He had missed the toilet and peed on the floor.

Shaking her head, she spun around, as she now needed to get the mop and bucket to clean her ex's urine off her bathroom tile. Some vacation this was turning out to be.

_____

Paige was wringing out the mop when her phone rang. Taking off her rubber gloves, she picked up it. The Garage. She stared at it as it vibrated in her hand, debating whether or not to answer. Curiosity finally got the better of her and she hit accept.

"Paige?" Sylvester asked uncertainly.

"Hey, Sly."

"Ralph and I need to go over the checklist for our field trip this weekend. It's still on, isn't it?"

Oh, damn. She had forgotten all about the tidal pool trip her son and the human calculator were going on to fulfill Ralph's requirement for his marine biology class.

"Yes, it's still on," she said. "Can you come over after work? I can drive you home so you don't have to ride the bus after dark."

There was silence on the other end of the connection and she knew he wanted to say something but was trying to figure out how to say it. .

"Uh, Paige," he finally said. "Walter yelled at Toby today."

"He yells at Toby all the time, Sylvester. If that's all. . .?"

"This was different. I don't think I've seen him so mad before. And. . . And. . . Is Drew really back in town?" He whispered the last sentence.

Paige sighed. Poor Sly. He hated conflict of any kind. "Not that it's anyone's business, but yes, Drew is staying here while he's doing some scouting in the area. Listen, are you coming over or not?" she asked impatiently. 

"Can't you drop Ralph off here after school?"

"Drew isn't a contagious disease, you know." She shouldn't be so mean but. . . She was trying to stay away from the garage, not spend all her free time there.

"I just think it will be easier," said Sylvester. "I have all my gear here already."

"Okay." Paige just gave in. "I'll drop him off after school."

"Paige?"

"Yes."

"You are coming back, right?" 

Dang it, now she felt bad for being so short with him. "Yes, Sly, I'm coming back," she reassured him.

"Okay. Good." He sounded relieved. "I just hope you do before. . .Walter. . . He was just so. . ."

"Sylvester." 

Gratefully, he picked up on the warning in her tone. "I'm sorry. I better go. See you this afternoon, Paige." 

"Goodbye, Sly." She hit end, then set her cell back on the counter. Great, just great. With a sigh, Paige returned to her cleaning.

_____

"Got a case," Cabe announced as he walked into the garage just before noon. "Walter and Paige only." He glanced around as Walter got to his feet. "Where's Paige?"

"Paige isn't here," replied Walter.

"I can see that. Where the hell is she?" asked the Homeland agent. 

Walter picked up a pen from his desk and began fidgeting with it. "She's taking time off."

"Drew is back in town," Toby volunteered, taking his attention away from the book he was reading for a second.

"And I care why?" Cabe inquired rhetorically. "She's needed on this case. It's top priority."

"What is it?" Walter walked up to the other man.

"Internet problems. That's all I can say."

"Why do I need Paige then?" The last thing he wanted right now was to be alone with the liaison. There were too many unresolved issues between them. And he wasn't ready to face them yet.

"You need Paige so you won't piss anyone off," Cabe growled. 

"Can't you go instead of Paige?" asked Sylvester, no doubt sensing his boss's distress.

"No, I have another assignment." Gallo sounded exasperated as he turned to his protégé. "You need Paige for this. Deal with it."

"Woooo." Toby's inappropriate remark earned him a smack to the back of his head from Happy. "Grow up."

"Listen, it's just a few hours of work. She's be back before Ralph gets out of school," Cabe promised. "Pay her extra, give her more days off, whatever it takes." He handed Walter a piece of paper. "That's the address, just tell them you're from Homeland, they're expecting you both."

Walter glanced at the note then back up at the agent. "Okay."

"Great," said Cabe. "See you later." He then left the garage.

"I can call her if you want," Sly offered.

"No, I'll do it." Walter picked up his cell, walked across the room, and then up the stairs to his quarters. Toby looked as if he wanted to make a comment, but a glare from Happy kept his mouth closed.

Her phone rang several times, causing him to worry she wasn't at home. Maybe she was out somewhere with Drew. Or worse, they were there at her condo, occupied by another activity. . .

"Walter? Walter!" He froze when she finally answered her cell. She didn't sound breathless, just annoyed. Good.

"Um. . .Hi. . .uh. . .Cabe has a case for us." he managed to say. "Well, it's just you and I and I really need you. . ." He lost his train of thought when he heard what he had said. 

"Walter?" Her voice got him back on track.

"Sorry, but Cabe is being insistent. It should only take a couple of hours."

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not really. I'm sorry. If there was another way, I would. . ."

"It's okay, Walter, I'll do it."

"I can pay you extra. . . Wait. . . You will?"

"Sure, why not?"

Walter had no answer for that. So he stated facts instead. "It will be more efficient if I drive to your place and then we continue on in your car."

"I can be ready in fifteen minutes."

"Uh. . . Good. . . Thank you." He pressed the end button and let out a sigh of relief. A few hours in her company then they could go back to avoiding each other. What was the worst that could happen?

_____

Paige set down her phone. With any other man, she would have suspected that this was a ploy to see her again. But this was Walter O'Brien. Deception was not a part of his nature.

Catching a glimpse of herself in the hallway mirror, she hurried into the newly cleaned bathroom to make good on her promise to be ready before he arrived in. . . She glanced up at the clock. Thirteen minutes. Because punctuality _was_ a part of his character.

A few hours in his company then they could go back to avoiding each other. It was better than cleaning up more of Drew's messes. What was the worst that could happen?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has escaped virtually unscathed. I think I added a sentence.

Paige was waiting in front of her building when Walter pulled up in his battered Datsun. He parked in the space next to her car then got out of his. She handed him her keys before opening the door and sliding into the passenger seat. He tossed his backpack onto the back seat before getting behind the wheel.

"Hello" she said as they drove out into traffic. 

"Hello." 

Silence filled the car until they stopped at a traffic light. "What kind of case is this?" she inquired. "I guess I should have asked earlier but. . ."

"Internet problems." She noticed that his hands were griping the steering wheel tightly. So he wasn't thrilled about having to work together either.

"And did Cabe say why I was needed?"

The light turned green and Walter didn't answer until they had crossed the intersection. "So I don't piss anyone off."

She smiled at his bluntness. "So where are we going?" 

Walter reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out the paper the Homeland agent had given him. "Oh, my. . .Wildecliff Manor? That's where we're going?"

"Yes. Why? Is it important?"

"Not really. It's a mansion that was built by a silent movie actor, Duncan Wilde, back in the ‘20's. I've seen some of his films. He played mostly swashbucklers."

"Swashbucklers?"

"Yeah, you know, swords, pirates, damsels in distress. . . Oh, right, you wouldn't." She sighed. "The house is really beautiful, it overlooks the ocean. I've seen some pictures. I've always wanted to go there, but it's not open to the public. It's a private retreat and costs a fortune to stay there."

He took his eyes off the road for a second, flashing her a brief grin. "Well, now you get to go there for free."

She laughed. "And all because you piss people off." 

"I don't mean to." His words were a mix of honesty and regret. 

"I know you don't," she said solemnly. And he truly didn't. It was just the way his brain was wired. Realizing they were straying into territory neither of them wanted to tread, she turned to stare out the window as the road started to climb up into the hills toward the coast.

They were both quiet for the rest of the trip, reaching their destination in less than forty minutes. An very large, very ornate gate greeted them at the end of the driveway to the manor. Walter rolled down his window as he stopped in front of it. 

"Walter O'Brien and Paige Dineen," he called out toward the electronic sentinel box on the left side of the gate. "We're with Homeland."

The gates swung open. "Proceed," a robotic sounding voice said. Walter stepped on the gas and they drove through the wrought iron structures. Paige watched in the rear view mirror as the gates closed behind them. It seemed rather ominous. 

About a quarter mile up the driveway, they had to stop again at a guard shack, where two men ordered them out of the car.

"I think they're Secret Service," Walter whispered as he set down his backpack then emptied out his pockets onto a table in the tiny building.

"They don't look like Secret Service," Paige murmured back, removing her jacket and scarf.

"They're trying too hard to look like they aren't."

Unable to find a flaw in his logic, Paige held out her arms and let one of the men scan her with a wand as the other man did the same to Walter. She was about to put her jacket back on when the guy who had been working with her dumped her purse out on the table.

"Hey!" She rushed over as all her possessions fell out: her wallet, a pack of gum, a comb, some used tissues, make up, a tampon, her birth control pills. . . Oh God. She reached out to snatch up the last two items but the second guard held out his arm, making it impossible to reach them. Her face was hot with embarrassment as she watched the two men paw through her belongings, especially when they picked up the prescription packet and scrutinized it for several minutes. She couldn't even look at Walter. 

It took another fifteen minutes for the pair of guards to search her vehicle. Paige had hurriedly stuffed everything back into her bag then took her time putting on her jacket and rearranging her scarf. She sneaked a peek at Walter while they waited; he stood on the opposite side of the car; his hands in his pockets, his eyes on the ground, a brooding frown on his face. 

"All clear," one of the men finally said and they were allowed to get back in the car and continue up the driveway.

"Oh my God," she said as the mansion came into view. It was gorgeous. Built of white adobe in the Spanish Mission style, it was three stories high, and nearly as wide as a football field. The photographs she had seen had not done the place justice. 

She noticed Walter seemed unimpressed as they got out of the car, although she was not surprised. A valet had approached them as they stopped and he now took the keys from Walter. Two men, clearly Secret Service, met them at the front door and patted them down again before escorting them inside. 

The pace was too fast for Paige to take in much of the luxurious furnishings and priceless works of art. They were lead up a flight of stairs and down a hallway, stopping when they reached a set of double doors. One of the agents knocked discreetly, and a voice inside said, "Enter." 

The doors were opened. A man was standing behind an ornately carved desk.

It was the President of the United States.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wildecliff Manor is a fictional place I made up, and Duncan Wilde is a fictional person I made up. The president in this story is your typical, generic TV show president. You can put another president (real or fictional) in his place if you like. I won't mind. In my head, he kind of looks like the guy who's playing the president on Agents of Shield.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ending of this chapter has changed drastically from when I initially posted it a couple of weeks ago. It's when I realized there was a fatal flaw in this story and I needed to fix it before posting more.

After the shock of being in the same room as the leader of the free world wore off, Paige stepped into the room. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Walter do the same. She now saw why she was necessary to this case. Walter didn't deal well with authority. Okay, he sucked at it. And who else represented authority more than the man in front of them?

"Welcome," he said, moving forward and extending his hand. "Ms Dineen? Mr O'Brien? Thank you for coming." 

"It's an honor, Mr President," she said, shaking his hand. She nudged Walter and murmured, "Right?"

"Yes, right. Quite the honor, Mr President." She winced as who she always thought of as Smarmy Walter surfaced, giving the man an overenthusiastic handshake and a slightly gruesome smile. "You have a problem with your internet?" he asked condescendingly. But thankfully, the president didn't notice. He indicated the computer sitting on the desk.

"The Wi-Fi connection was working fine until last night. Now it's spotty. Keeps going out. And the speed is at a snail's pace." 

"Sounds like something is interfering with the signal," Walter said. He started to move toward the equipment but Paige stopped him with a tap on his shoulder. "Ask first," she whispered. 

"May I?" The president nodded. Walter came around the desk, set down his backpack, then immediately began clicking the mouse and tapping keys.

"He certainly seems to know what he's doing," the president remarked to Paige. "Are you his assistant?" 

"In a way." She glanced over at Walter, who was frowning, something he often did when concentrating on his work. But this time, he appeared to be confused by whatever he was seeing on the monitor.

"Did you find out what the problem is already?" she asked. When she walked over to stand next to him, it became apparent something was terribly wrong. The picture on the screen was slowly being eaten away by a yellow snake slithering across it.

"Why is that happening?" she asked.

"I don't know," replied Walter. She was taken aback to hear a hint of panic in his voice as he hit a couple more keys. "I can't get it to stop."

"What is it?" The president came around to look over Walter's shoulder. That's when the doors flew open and the room was filled with about twenty people dressed in paramilitary uniforms, each pointing an assault rifle at them.

"Oh my God." Paige instinctively raised her hands, as did the president. Walter just stared at the intruders. "Raise your hands," she hissed, fearing what might happen if he didn't.

He didn't appear to hear her at first, then slowly lifted his hands in the air. After he surrendered, the group members sprung into action, first taking out the pair of Secret Service agents in the room with a few well-placed blows.

Two other men came forward, each grabbing one of the president's arms. Four more seized Walter and Paige. They were hustled down the hallway, then up a flight of stairs. Paige lost sight of the president in the chaos.

They were shoved into a room and pushed onto a large mattress on the floor, where they were stripped of their shoes, watches, phones, Walter's wallet, belt, and tie, and Paige's jacket, purse, scarf, and jewelry. Their hands were forced behind their backs and zip-tied. Zip-ties were placed around their ankles as well. Guns were trained on them the whole time. It was done quietly and quickly and with a precision that was breathtaking.

"What are you going to do with us?" Paige asked. Walter could hear the terror in her voice.

He answered her question when it became obvious the others wouldn't. "We're their insurance." He glanced around the room. "You're holding the president for a ransom of some kind, correct?" 

A man nearest them nodded. "The government has twenty-four hours to meet our demands. If they don't. . ." He shrugged. "You two will be incentive for them to change their minds." He bent over and grasped Paige's chin, forcefully lifting it to make her look him in the eyes. "It's going to be a shame to mar such a pretty face." He let go of Paige, revealing red marks on her skin that Walter knew would later become bruises.

"Keep your hands off of her," he demanded, struggling against his bonds. He tried to kick out at the person closest to him.

One of the captors threatened to hit Walter in the head with the butt of his weapon, but the man who had touched Paige barked. "No, not yet. We need them alive. For now. But any more of that nonsense, and all bets are off." He glared menacingly at Walter. 

He couldn't protect Paige if he were unconscious. Or worse. He needed to compose himself. Walter took several deep breaths and stopped moving.

"That's better," the man sneered. "You two should get comfy. It's going to be a long night." The de facto leader motioned with his hand then he and most of the others left the room. A woman remained behind, tossing a blanket at them before she, too, departed. The door was firmly closed and they heard a key twist in the lock, trapping them inside the room.

_____

Walter had no idea how long they sat in stunned silence. Just that morning, he had been yelling at Toby at the garage, and now he was being held as a hostage with Paige and the President of the United States. The absurdity of the situation almost made him laugh. Almost.

"Oh, God, what just happened?" Paige asked, looking around the room, her eyes full of confusion. "What are we going to do? I can't. . . Oh God, this can't be happening."

"We can't give up," he replied, not liking the despair in her voice. "I will find a way out of this."

He scanned the room, calculating in his mind as he murmured. "Some kind of storage room, approximately five feet by seven by 8 feet high, single point of entry, no window or vents. . ." Squinting at the door, he added, "Keyed entry, only accessible from the other side, no knob. One light bulb in the ceiling, no switch." Walter tested the mattress by trying to bounce on it. "No springs, most likely filled with a blend of polyester and cotton."

"So what does that all mean?" asked Paige. 

"It means unless I'm missing something," he replied, "there is no way to escape And if even there were, we have nothing we could use to assist us. They took anything even remotely useful." He glanced at her, saw her panic stricken face, knowing he should soften the blow but not knowing how. "And as confident as I am the rest of the team will do whatever it takes to intervene, it means that we have a 100% chance of being dead in less than twenty-four hours."


	7. Chapter 7

"Oh, God." Paige drew her knees up to her chest. "But shouldn't we try to escape anyway? We can't just sit here and wait to die. I want to see Ralph again. . .the rest of the team. . ."

"I do, too," he said before shaking his head. "No, they would be too vigilant now. The odds of being recaptured are too high. The optimal time for escape would be about eight to twelve hours before the deadline. Stress and fatigue set in by then, attentiveness begins to relax. As the deadline nears, the odds of successful escape also decrease when preparations for the end game begin. And there are more of them than the ones we saw. I would estimate at least a hundred."

"That's not what I want to hear, Walter," she said, seemingly unimpressed by his barrage of facts. "You're positive we're trapped in here?"

"Unless I'm missing something. . ." Fumbling with the zip-tie around his wrists, he forced it through its eyelet backward, breaking off the little catch that held it in place. He brought his hands forward, the broken tie dangling from his right arm.

Paige stared at him in amazement. "How did you do that?" she wanted to know.

"I took a seminar on how to escape from various types of restraints, ropes, duct tape, handcuffs, zip-ties. It was very informative." He tentatively reached his hands toward her. "Let me do you. . ." he began before trailing off when he heard what he had said. He knew enough slang to know it had been inappropriate.

Her cheeks turned pink. "It's okay, Walter," she said. "I know what you mean." She scooted forward so that her wrists were accessible. As he maneuvered her restraint, his fingers accidentally grazed her bottom and he heard her gasp as a shock of lust shot through him. Taking a deep breath to clear his head, he focused on freeing her, which he accomplished in a matter of seconds.

"Can you show me how?" she asked, rubbing at the indentations the ties had left on her skin. She straightened out her legs, displaying her still secured ankles

"Sure." 

Once their legs were unbound, Walter got up and started walking around, putting his hands on the walls.

"Now what are you doing?" He could hear the exasperation in her voice, tinged with a bit of fear.

"Looking for a secret panel, a trap door," he replied as he knelt down on the floor, feeling the tiles to see if any were loose. He couldn't reach the ceiling without jumping, as it was two feet higher than his six foot frame. Standing in the middle of the room with his hands on his hips, he assessed every square inch of the white plaster above his head.

"Nothing." He flopped back down on the musty mattress.

"Did you really expect to find anything?"

"The odds were slim," he conceded. "I had to make sure." Tipping his head back against the wall, he closed his eyes. Think. They couldn't just be stuck in here, with no means of escape, with death awaiting them at the end. He was missing something. He had to be. Nothing was impossible. 

"They'll check on us from time to time," he said. "Probably in four or six hour intervals."

"If they're just going to kill us," she said a bit hysterically, "why would they bother?"

"Empathy," replied Walter. "The need to treat us as human beings even though they plan to kill us. It's illogical, of course."

"Only to someone with no empathy." Paige sighed. "I thought you had evolved more than that."

"I understand the concept, just not the reasoning behind it." He stared at the door. "That's the only way in or out. If we could come up with a plan to ambush them, I could. . ."

"I swear to God, Walter O'Brien, if you're thinking of sacrificing yourself for my sake. . .for the ‘greater good', I'll kill you myself." 

Dammit. "No, of course not." Technically, it wasn't a lie. . .now.

She went on as if he hadn't said anything. "I'm not Ralph's only parent, you know. Drew is perfectly capable of raising of his own son. Having him stay with us this week has been really great."

Walter closed his eyes. So it was true. She and her ex were getting back together. A sharp pain slashed through him as thoughts filled his mind of the flaky ballplayer trying to comprehend what raising Ralph would entail, of Paige and Drew. . . On top of what had already occurred that day, it was too much to for him to process.

"Drew? Take care of Ralph?" he lashed out. "He'll end up like Sylvester, running away from home at fourteen and suicidal by sixteen. Or like Happy, angry at the world. Or Toby. . .

"Or like you? A human robot? Incapable of feeling emotions?" Paige's voice cracked and he could tell without looking she was crying. 

"Oh dammit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. . ."

"You don't say things you don't mean, remember?"

"Okay, well. . ." He sighed heavily. "It's. . . It's none of my business if you get back together with. . . Drew. It's your choice and. .."

"What are you talking about? I'm not getting back to together with Drew." She stared at him with a puzzled expression. "Why would you even think that?"

"You invited him to stay with you. You had a great time with him." He gulped nervously as he gazed blankly at the pattern of the fabric covering the mattress. "I. . .I saw the pills, Paige. I know what they're for."

"Walter, for a genius, you can be pretty stupid." He glanced up at her when he heard her laugh. Tears still lingered on her cheeks and he hated himself for putting them there. "You think I'm sleeping with Drew based on such flimsy evidence?" She sighed impatiently. "I invited Drew to stay because it's easier for him to spend more time with Ralph instead of commuting back and forth between the condo and a motel. Yes, he's the father of my son. But that's all he is to me. Any love I ever felt for him died long ago."

Then it was her turn to stare at the mattress. "The pills," she said. "After I had Ralph, my cycle became irregular, so my doctor prescribed them. I've taken them on and off for years, whenever I could afford them. Like ever since I started working for Scorpion."

Her explanation filled him with relief. "So they ‘re not for. . ."

"No. And anyway, what does it matter?" she asked, glancing up at him. "We're going to die. I'm not going to be able to get back together with anyone even if I wanted to. I wonder what time it is," she said, changing the morbid subject. 

He flicked his right wrist, which was bare. "They took our watches," he reminded her unnecessarily. 

"It seems like we've been here for hours."

"Vierordt's law," stated Walter. Seeing her blank expression, he explained, "It's a matter of time perception; short time intervals are usually overestimated, longer time intervals underestimated."

"Oh, so like the saying ‘Time flies when you're having fun'?" She smiled then frowned. "Except this is the exact opposite of fun. We've probably only been here twenty minutes. So what are we going to do for the next twenty-three hours and forty minutes?"

"Find a way out. . ." He held up his hands as she started to protest. "That doesn't involve the greater good," he finished. 

She nodded and he felt the tension leave his body as she believed his lie. There was only one way out and it involved invoking the greater good. He would be damned if he would let anything happen to her if he could prevent it. And if it was at the expense of his own life, so be it.


	8. Chapter 8

Meanwhile, back at the garage, the first inkling of trouble reared its ugly head when Drew called looking for Paige. He had dropped off Ralph at Scorpion headquarters after school earlier that afternoon and was scheduled to pick him up at five thirty.

"No, she's not here," said Toby, who had made a mad dash to the phone when he heard the other man's voice on the answering machine. "She and Walter are on a case."

"I know, she left me a message and Walter's car is still here in the parking lot," said the ballplayer, sounding exasperated. "She said she would only be gone a couple of hours but now it's after five o'clock."

"What's the matter?" the shrink asked sarcastically, leaning back in the chair and putting his feet up on the desk. "Can't handle taking care of your own kid?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but I have a meeting with some local scouts at six," Drew announced. Toby giggled as he pictured him in a Boys Scouts' uniform, complete with shorts, knee socks, and neck scarf as the other man kept talking. "It's at a bar and I can't bring Ralph and I can't get a hold of his evening sitter. She's out of town or something."

Happy, who had wandered over to listen to the conversation on the speaker phone, chimed in. "He can stay here until she gets back. We can take care of him. He owes me a rematch of Constructo Battle anyway."

"Thanks, I really appreciate it," Drew said before ending the call.

"Putz." Toby leaned forward, lowering his feet back to the floor. "And by the way, the putz does have a very good point. Where are Mr O'Brien and Miss Dineen? They should have been back by now."

"Guys." Sly's panicked voice preceded him into the room. "I think this might have something to do with it." He turned on the television tuned to a local news station, which was showing footage being shot from a helicopter of a large white Spanish-looking mansion, set on a cliff overlooking the ocean. 

A banner ran across the bottom of the screen, screaming the President of the United States was being held hostage by a militia group, followed by a list of their demands and the news that at least five Secret Service agents were dead and the rest uncounted for. It was estimated at least one hundred members of the militia had overtaken the exclusive retreat.

Then the screen was filled with driver's license photos of Walter and Paige while a woman's voice announced they had entered the building only moments before it had been infiltrated by the group and their whereabouts were now unknown. 

The woman went on to say, "They claimed to be Homeland contractors and it is now being thought they helped the militia members gain access to the retreat, where the President had been preparing for a secret meeting with the leaders of Canada and Mexico."

"Not good," said Happy.

"‘Claimed?' ‘Thought?'" Toby's voice dripped with disgust. "Someone's attempting to make Walter and Paige appear to be in cahoots with these yahoos. I think we need to call Cabe."

"Are Mom and Walter in trouble?" Ralph was staring at the TV screen where their photos were being flashed again. Sylvester hustled over and shut it off.

Toby got down on one knee, bringing himself at Ralph's level. "Yes, they are." he said, knowing keeping the kid in the dark was not an option. "But we'll do everything we can to help them."

The words had barely left his mouth when the door to the garage was thrown open, and five people marched inside, flashing badges. "Homeland!" shouted a male voice.

"That was quick. We didn't even get a chance to call," Sylvester noted suspiciously as he and the others saw Cabe walk in behind the other agents.

"That's Walter's desk and that one is Paige's" Gallo said as he pointed to the pieces of furniture in question. "O'Brien's living quarters are upstairs."

The team members gathered around him as the other agents scattered across the garage. "What's going on?" asked Sly. "They just can't march in here and rummage through Walter and Paige's stuff," challenged Toby. Happy added her two cents, "How much trouble are they in?"

"They have search warrants." Cabe informed the shrink. "Homeland is investigating a security breach. And they're in about as much trouble as I am," he announced, addressing the other two queries.

"How are you involved?" Sylvester looked scared and confused.

"I'm under suspicion because I recommended them for the assignment. They needed a top-notch IT guy with government clearance and I told them they would never find anyone better than Walter." He shook his head. "And we all know Paige is the only person who can keep him in line. I wasn't about to turn him loose on the President by himself."

The other nodded in agreement. "They think the militia interfered with the Wi-Fi in the area, knowing that someone would be authorized to go in and fix it," he continued. "They needed the gate to be opened so they could get the code. Like at that prison we were at last year."

"But why would you three be suspect?" asked Toby. "Everyone knows that underlings are never the leak They rarely are in a position to learn anything of value. It's almost always someone higher up. Unless the underlings are disgruntled. Are you disgruntled, Cabe?"

"I am now." He glanced as the other agents started carrying boxes of documents out of the building.

"So how do we get them out of there?" asked Happy. "Or even find out if they're even still in there."

"I hate to say this. . ." Sly began before Toby cut in with, "Then don't."

The human calculator pushed his glasses up his nose as he ignored the interruption, "but the odds are 95.5% they are already dead."

"Then there's a 4.5% chance they're still alive," said Happy. "We've faced worse odds."

"What's going on?" asked Drew as he walked inside. "They frisked me before they would let me come in."

"What are you doing here?" Happy asked, not bothering to disguise the hostility in her voice. 

"Don't you have a meeting?" the shrink reminded the other man. "If you gotta bounce, that's fine with us."

"Look, I know you all don't like me. I get that," the ballplayer said. "I heard the news report on the radio. Paige is the mother of my son, and she's in danger. And I'll do whatever I can to help. I'm staying."

Toby and Happy looked at each other, both impressed by Drew finally manning up.

"Can you make coffee?" Cabe asked. Drew nodded. "It's going to be a long night."

"I want to help, too," said Ralph. "What do you need me to do?"

"You can help me search the county planning department for blueprints," said Sly. "We're looking for a place called Wildecliff Manor." He led Ralph over to his desk, pulling Walter's empty chair over for the boy to sit on.

"Wanna help me look up intel on these loons?" Toby asked Happy, waggling his eyebrows at her. 

"You sure know how to charm a girl, Doc," she replied as she sat down at her desk.

Toby just smiled at her for a moment before opening his laptop. "Seems to work."

She didn't say anything but he was glad looks didn't actually kill because he'd be a dead man. Smirking, he began typing in the name of the group holding his friends hostage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need a beta for a couple of future chapters, mostly for content. But I always need someone to spot typos and skipped words (I do that a a lot, my brain works faster than my fingers). I would appreciate any help I can get. Thanks!
> 
> I have deliberately not named the militia group. Every name I thought of was already taken in one form or another in real life so I gave up.


	9. Chapter 9

Paige awoke with a start, disoriented at first by the unfamiliar sensations all around her. A musty smell filled the air, causing her nose to wrinkle. A light glowed dimly overhead. She never slept with a light on. Something warm and solid was lying beside her, and a heavy weight trapped her to the mattress. Where was she. . .?

Oh God, she was cuddled up against Walter. They must have fallen asleep. After their earlier conversation had waned, they had both sat quietly, with her fretting over their situation. She had some idea of what he had been thinking, due to his quiet murmuring and head shakes, no doubt plotting and calculating odds. 

She moved carefully so she could look at him. Walter was resting on his stomach, and it was his right arm that held her in place. She had never seen him asleep before, she realized, except for the drug-induced state he had been in at the hospital after his accident. He was always working, always thinking, never stopping until the job was done and everyone was safe. 

He looked younger, with his eyes closed and his face still. His lashes were long, a fact that made her envious, considering the small fortune she had spent on mascara since middle school. His mouth was slack, except for a faint frown. The scar on the left side of his chin stood out in the midst of his stubble. She wondered how he had acquired it, had wondered since the first day she had met him. There was a story behind the thin line that intersected his lips. 

Resisting the urge to trace it with her fingers, Paige decided to get up, which proved difficult as Walter's arm was like a dead weight. She managed to moved it downward a few inches, and his hand came in contact with her hip.

His eyes popped open, looking as confused as she had felt when she had awakened moments earlier. "Hello." she greeted him.

"Hello." He rubbed his left hand over his face and up into his curls. His other hand slid upward to her waist then to her back. She shivered as a jolt of desire shot through her. Then his touch disappeared as he raised up on his elbow. "Oh, God, I'm sorry. . .I didn't. . ."

‘It's okay, Walter," she said, still trembling from the accidental contact. If she was affected this much by him with all her clothes on, how intense would it be if they were. . .less clothed? Her face began to burn at the thought.

"Paige?" She lifted her eyes to look at his. His cheeks were as red as hers felt and she knew he was wondering the same thing. Nervously, she licked her lips, imagining his touching them. And then she didn't have to imagine it.

Walter kissed her tentatively at first, his confidence growing along with the intensity with every passing second as she slipped her arms behind his neck, her fingers in his hair. 

Their tongues entwined as Paige pressed herself against him. He put his hand on her back, sliding it downward. . .

The sound of footsteps coming down the hall didn't register at first, but Walter heard them when Paige abruptly pulled away. "Someone's coming," she whispered unnecessarily as they both sat up.

"We need to pretend we're still restrained," he murmured. Paige tossed the blanket over their legs, hoping it would conceal the fact their ankles were unbound. She then put her arms behind her back as the key was twisted in the lock.

Three of their captors entered the room, two male, one female. They all carried weapons, the two men had their rifles against their shoulders, aimed in their direction. The woman, who was in her late forties or early fifties, set down a bottle of water and a white plastic bucket next to the mattress. 

"You have half an hour," she said as she and the others started back out of the room.

"To do what?" asked Paige.

"To use the bucket." The woman held out a roll of toilet paper.

"Oh, God," Paige said. "But we're tied up."

"You'll get have to help each other out," said one of the men, who along with the other man, started chuckling crudely. 

"That's enough," the woman admonished before tipping her head toward Paige and Walter. "Half an hour." She and the men stepped out into the hall, shutting the door and turning the key in the lock.

"I can turn my back if you want to go first," Walter offered gallantly.

"I don't want to use it at all." But her bladder had the final say in the matter. "Ugh. Turn around. Plug your ears."

"What?"

"Plug your ears. Please, just do it."

"Okay." He laughed as he did as she instructed.

After she was done, she stared in the opposite direction as Walter took care of his business. After he signaled he was finished, Paige glanced over at the floor around the bucket. Not a drop. She giggled to herself. 

"Why are you laughing?" he asked.

"It's nothing." When he gave her a look that said he didn't believe her, she said, "You wouldn't understand. It's nothing you did, trust me." 

With a shrug, Walter picked up the water bottle. "We'll have to ration this." He handed it to Paige.

"I wonder why they even bothered," she said as she stared at it. 

"They don't want us to die too soon," he said matter-of-factly. 

"Oh, God." His words reminded her of their dire situation. Her knees felt shaky and she dropped the bottle. As she took a deep breath, his hands touched her shoulders and pulled her forward. Paige glanced up as Walter gingerly slid his arms around her before clumsily patting her back. The endearingly awkward embrace caused a dam to break inside her, and she sobbed softly on his shoulder.

"Paige, I-I'm sorry," he stammered. "I sh-shouldn't have said. . ."

"No, it's okay," she said, wiping her face. "I mean it's not okay, but it's not your fault." She drew a ragged breath. "I keep thinking about Ralph. . . And how I'll never. . .see. . ." 

Walter's chest hurt at the thought of never seeing the boy he had come to think of as his own again. Closing his eyes, he tried to come to terms with that reality and failed. He held her tightly for a moment, overwhelmed by an aberrant need to comfort her, then let go, bending down to pick up the bottle of water.

"I'm. . .I'm not thirsty now," she said when he offered it to her. He knew she was lying, knew she wouldn't drink unless he did. 

"Okay." He sat down on the mattress and she followed. "They'll be back soon," he said. 

Paige nodded as she laid her head on his shoulder. Seeing the worry and fear in her eyes, he lightly skimmed his fingers down her arm, then reached for her hand. She lifted her head to look at him and smiled. A smile that did funny things to his insides. But then it had since that first day at the diner. He envied her ability to make people comfortable and content, something he had never been able to accomplish.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching the room. He straightened, tucking his hands behind his back, noting Paige did the same.

The key turned in the lock, and the door opened. The same woman stepped inside, this time pointing a weapon at them. "Pick it up," she ordered one of the two men who had accompanied her, indicating the bucket and paper. The man didn't look thrilled but did as he was told. The trio started to back out.

"Wait," said Paige. The woman and the other man both swung their rifles at her. "What time is it?" the liaison asked.

The woman hesitated for a moment, then consulted her watch. "Almost nine." 

"Thank you," Paige whispered.

The woman bobbed her head before she and the others left, closing the door and twisting the key, locking them in once again.


	10. Chapter 10

"You're kidding me." Cabe's outraged growl echoed throughout the garage. "You have a team of gee. . ." The voice on the other end of the Homeland agent's call interrupted him before talking at length. "Pardon my French," Gallo said when he could get a word in edgewise, "but that's bullshit."

He ended the conversation by jabbing his phone with his index finger. "That was Deputy Director Cooper. Scorpion is officially off this case."

"Screw that," said Toby. "So we'll work unofficially. We've done it before."

"Why did they kick us off?" Sylvester asked worriedly. "There must be a good reason."

"They're afraid the whole team is in league with these militia people," explained Cabe. "They're making it sound like Walter and Paige are some kind of modern day Bonnie and Clyde."

"Walter and Paige weren't even speaking to each other until this case came along," Happy pointed out. 

"They don't know that, and they wouldn't care." Gallo glanced around at the remaining team members. "The doc's right. We keep working. We'll get them out of there if we have to do it by ourselves."

"Copy that," said the shrink, a smug grin on his face. He glanced up from his computer, where he had been viewing the militia's website. "These guys are even worse conspiracy theorists than I am. They're as mad as hatters."

"You'd know all about mad hatters," quipped Happy, eyeing the fedora on his head.

Cabe strolled up behind the shrink, reading over his shoulder. "They make that bunch up in Oregon look like toddlers playing dress up," he remarked after a few minutes. "These guys mean business."

"But they're not very smart," Toby pointed out. "They posted their membership information online. Names, addresses, phone numbers. . . It took Ralph about a minute to hack into it. And I think he was tired." He nodded his head to where the boy was now sleeping on the sofa, the ferret curled up on his chest.

"It took me a little longer, but I hacked into the DoD. . ." Happy began.

"I didn't hear that," Cabe cut in.

"And a lot of these guys are people who either tried to join a branch of the armed services and didn't qualify or who didn't make it through basic training. Only the leader and a couple of the others have any real military background. The dude-in-charge is a real piece of work. Had nine years in before being dishonorably discharged for almost beating a recruit to death. And that isn't the only assault charge on his record. He's even had a rape charge that was dropped because the victim refused to testify."

"Whoa," Toby said, "and Walter and Paige are at his mercy." They all glanced uneasily at each other.

"I imagine we have someone on the inside," Cabe stated. "If not Homeland, then someone else."

"That's a pretty big if," Toby replied. "And even if it's true, they would have to risk exposing their cover for a pair of strangers. Not everyone believes in the greater good."

"Yeah, but Walt does," said Happy. "And that's what really scares me."

Toby got up out of his chair, went over to Happy, then wrapped his arms around her. The fact that she didn't object, frightened him more than he already was.

"Hey guys, I think I found something." Carrying a handful of papers, Sylvester hurried into the room, stopping at the sight of Toby and Happy. The couple broke apart awkwardly, both looking a little sheepish. Cabe had turned his back earlier but now walked over to Sly. 

"What is it?" he asked.

"A blueprint for Wildecliff Manor," the human calculator announced. He shuffled through the print outs until he found the one he wanted. He placed it on the nearest desk, which happened to be Paige's. The others gathered around as he pointed at the sketch. "Look at this floor plan of the basement. There's a door there doesn't lead to anywhere. Now what I think. . ." 

He took a pen and drew lines forming a tunnel that opened up into a larger room. ". . .is that it's connected to an underground bunker. It must have been added later because it's not on the original plan." He stared at his drawing for a moment. "Or it could be a tunnel that ends up somewhere, probably somewhere outside. A secret entrance, maybe?"

"I'll check out geological surveys for that area," Happy volunteered. "Wanna help, Doc?" 

"You didn't even have to ask," he replied, following her like a puppy over to her desk.

"I'll search building permits from the ‘50's and ‘60's when bomb shelters were popular," said Sly on his way back to his own work station. He stopped as he was about to pass by Cabe. "If we find a way in," he said, "they'll have to listen to us. . .won't they?" 

The Homeland agent patted the young man on the shoulder. "Let's hope so, kid. Let's hope so." 

_____

Walter wasn't sure why, out of all the thoughts and images racing through his mind, the kiss he had initiated with Paige earlier stood out foremost among them. If they hadn't been interrupted, who knew what it could have led to? Okay, he knew exactly what it would have led to. But he doubted Paige had felt the same way. She was still upset with him over the dating business, and also by his prying into her relationship with Drew.

He glanced down at her, her head once again resting on his shoulder. She had fallen asleep, and had been close to toppling sideways before he scooted closer to stop her. He liked the sensation of her resting against him, which was odd considering he had always had difficulty with physical contact. Except with her. Her touch was comforting, yet stimulating at the same time. 

Crossing his arms over his chest, he relaxed, deciding to follow her example. His eyelids drooped as he started to drift off.

"No, no." Walter popped his eyes back open as Paige stirred. "No." She thrashed her arms and legs before sitting upright.

"Ralph. . .where's Ralph?" she asked, her voice full of panic.

"He's all right," he said, awkwardly slipping his left arm around her shoulders. 

The gesture awakened her fully and she stared at him, her eyes filled with fear. "Oh, God, I must have been dreaming. Drew forgot to pick up Ralph and I couldn't get to him and no one cared whether I did or not and. . ." She paused to draw in a breath. "Do you think Drew remembered to pick up Ralph?"

"Why wouldn't he? You said yourself that he was good father and having him around was great and. . ."

"I lied." Resting her head against the wall, she continued, "It sucked having him around. He made huge messes and spent more time out with his new buddies than with Ralph. . ."

Walter couldn't help but feel secretly pleased as he listened to about half of what she was saying, although he thought he heard her mention something about ‘peeing on the floor'. A ragged sob caught his full attention though, and he turned to look at her.

"And now he's going to be raising my son," she stated, tears running down her cheeks. "And you're right, he won't know what to do." 

She pressed her face against his shoulder and once again he cautiously put his arms around her. He hated seeing her cry. Hated the fact he couldn't do anything to ease her fears beside rub her back in a pathetic attempt to comfort her.

It was so light as first he didn't notice. But then it grew bolder, the insistent pressure of her lips on a spot just below his ear. His heartbeat and breathing both became erratic as her mouth moved up to gently capture his ear lobe in her teeth.

"Uh, Paige?"

"Shh." He could feel her breath travel across his face before her lips met his.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been re-writing and tweaking this chapter for days. For some reason, I'm really nervous about posting it. I don't know why, I've written numerous sex scenes for my other fandom with no problem. This is my first one for Scorpion though, and I guess first times are just scary, no matter how experienced you are.

Walter was stunned by her bold move. Was she initiating what he thought she was initiating? He wasn't allowed to dwell on that question as she ran her tongue over the seam of his lips, causing them to open enough for the tip of it to slide between them. The kiss deepened as she slipped her arms behind his neck as she lowered herself back onto the mattress, pulling him down on top of her.

"Paige, wait," he gasped, lifting his head. He could feel her soft body pressed against his, knowing she had to feel what was happening to him. "What. . .? Why. . .? I mean, aren't you still mad at me for. . .?

She placed a finger on his lips. "Walter, I was never mad at you. Frustrated, yes. Confused, yes. But not mad." She kissed him again, grinding her hips against his.

Oh, God, she did want to. . . He had to tell her. It wouldn't be fair not to let her know. . .

Rolling away, he sat up, then stared at the floor. "I need to tell you something before, I mean, if we. . .we. . ." He took a deep breath. "Remember when you asked if I'd ever had a romantic, uh, three day weekend?"

She nodded, a puzzled expression on her face. "You said she left after one day?"

"Yes. We were, uh, going to. . . going to. . ." 

"Sleep together?" she prompted. 

"Yes, sleep together." He gulped nervously, never imagining this would be so difficult to share even though it happened nearly four years earlier. "And she touched my. . .my, uh. . .through my trousers, not. . . And I froze. She laughed, asked if I-I was a virgin. When I said yes, she laughed at me again. She wanted to know what was wrong with me, that I must be some kind of fr-freak, a loser, a. . ." His words trailed off as they got stuck in his throat. 

"Well, anyway, she left," he continued once he could speak again. "I was stuck at this romantic bed and breakfast I could barely afford in the first place. I had just started Scorpion, but she insisted. . ." He lifted his head to stare at her. "I-I'm still a. . ." He paused to exhale. "A virgin. I'm a 32-year old virgin." Averting his gaze, he felt himself grow hot with shame. 

Paige had never considered herself a violent person. In fact, she prided herself in being the exact opposite. But at that moment, she would have cheerfully pulled out every strand of hair out of the head of the nameless, faceless bitch who had caused the pain and humiliation she saw in Walter's eyes.

She bit her lip as she fought back tears. He thought she was going to reject him, laugh at him, call him cruel names. She had suspected it, of course. He was so awkward around women, so clueless about the signals they threw his way. The fact he let her get so close made her feel special. And she had seen in his eyes, his smile, and had felt in his kisses, the words he couldn't say.

"It's okay if you don't want. . ." he began, interrupting her train of thought.

"Walter."

"What?"

She reached out and took his face into her hands, so they could see eye to eye. "You are not a freak. You are not a loser. There is nothing wrong with you. You should be proud, not ashamed." Paige smiled shyly before she added, "It would be an honor to be your first lover." 

The expression on his face was priceless, a mixture of surprise, happiness, fear, lust. She waited as he tried to sort out all the competing emotions. "Are you sure?" he finally asked.

"Yes."

"You're not. . . You're not just feeling sorry for me?"

"No. This isn't pity." Her face grew warm. "I've wanted you for a long time."

Walter looked at her, kneeling across from him on the mattress. He wanted her so much. But this wasn't just about him. He had to make this good for her, too. And for the first time in his life, he was scared being a genius wasn't going to help him.  
.   
She reached out with her hands, taking his in hers. They felt warm, and soft, and strong. 

"Walter, it's okay to be nervous," she said. "I am, too. It's been over eight years since I've been with anyone. I trust you. And. . ." Her eyes darted away for a second and the shy smile returned to her face. "And I'm sure I'll like whatever you want to do. I'll let you know if I don't. Okay?"

"Okay." Her words reassured him yet he was still worried. "I just want. . .want to. . ."

"I know." She squeezed his hands. "Everything will be all right. I promise."

She then ran her hands up the length of his arms, where they came to rest on his shoulders. He replicated her gesture, but his hands did not remain motionless. They slid down her back until they rested on the small of her back. He saw in her eyes that she, too, was thinking of that night they had danced. Up to that point, it had been the most erotic experience of his life.

He urged her hips forward until they were as close as they had been while dancing. The tip of her tongue darted from between her lips, licking first the top then the bottom. He gently touched his mouth to hers, then he was tasting her, feeling her heat, felt himself spiraling out of control.

His brain wanted to go slow, to savor every new sensation, to do all the things that had consumed his dreams since the day he had met her. His body, however, wanted to go faster, grab whatever pleasure it could get before it was too late. This could be their only chance.

And his heart; the organ he had never listened to before now; his heart whispered to not be afraid, to just love her and everything would be all right. 

Kissing her again, they tumbled onto the mattress where he ended up mostly on top of her. She laughed, which he hoped meant he hadn't hurt her. Her hands reached for the buttons of his shirt. Following her lead, he lifted the silky fabric of her blouse until his palms cupped the swell of her breasts, causing her nipples harden through the lace of her bra.

She pushed his button-down off his shoulders, then reached for the bottom of the t-shirt he wore underneath, blocking his view when she pulled it up over his face. The rest of their clothing was removed in an almost indecent haste.

It literally took his breath away as bare skin finally met bare skin. It was almost too much to process. She must have sensed his distress as she put a bit of distance between them. 

"Remember when I said I would tell you if I didn't like something?" He nodded. "You have to tell me if I do the same, Walter. Promise?"

"I'm okay. It was. . . I. . ." He pressed his body against hers. She was so soft and warm, and beautiful. Brushing her hair away from her face, he placed his lips on a spot below her ear, where he could feel her pulse beating wildly. He kissed his way down her slender neck, to her shoulder, to her breasts.

They were even more beautiful than he had imagined. He gazed upon them until she shivered beneath him, then the desire to kiss them overwhelmed him. First the left, then the right. Again. The third time, he let the tip slid into his mouth. He shot a glance at her face. Her eyes were closed, her neck arched, her breathing fast and shallow. It almost appeared she was in pain, except that she also seemed to be purring.   
He ran his tongue over the nub in his mouth. He moved to the other breast and did the same. It amazed him how one tiny movement like the flick of a tongue could cause such an enormous response.

She shifted beneath him almost impatiently, making him realize there were other equally fascinating areas to explore. Rising up, he kissed her as his hands traveled down to her hips. She gasped out his name as he slipped a finger into the curls between her thighs. The heat surprised him, and even though he was a novice, he knew she was more than ready for him. Still, he let his fingers slide back and forth a few times, reveling in her response. 

"Oh, God, Walter, please. . ." She ran her palms up his arms, grasping at his shoulders as she bucked against his hand.

"I need you so much," he whispered into her ear. "I don't think I can wait much longer."

"I need you, too." Paige opened her legs, and he sank into the cradle of her thighs, settling himself at her entrance.

One thrust and there would be no going back. He would be a virgin no more. Paige was gazing up at him, biting her lip as her eyes shimmered. 

"We can stop," she murmured, no doubt guessing the reason for his hesitation. "It's not too late."

He answered her by lowering his lips to hers as he slowly slid into her. She was tight, and slick, and warm, and she fit around him as if she had been made just for him. It was the most wonderful sensation he had ever experienced. He had to take a moment to catch his breath. Then he began to move, gradually creating a rhythm that she quickly matched. 

His mouth and hands were touching her everywhere they could reach. She wrapped her legs around his hips, sending him even deeper inside her. Then Paige arched upward, crying out his name as she shuddered, her inner walls clasping around him. That was all it took to drive him over the edge and he shattered, spilling inside her as he felt as if he was being turned inside out. He collapsed, unsure if he would ever be able to move again.


	12. Chapter 12

"Walter?" He opened his eyes to see Paige smiling up at him as her body was still under his. 

Damn, he must be crushing her. He started to roll off, but she stopped him by placing her hands on either side of his face and kissing him. 

"Paige. . ." He didn't know what to say to her. He didn't think thanking her would be appropriate, but it was how he felt. He didn't think he could thank her enough.

He attempted to move off of her again, and this time she let him. Instinctively he drew her into his arms, kissing the top of her head as she rested it against his chest.

After a while, she began playing with the strip of hair between his pectoral muscles. "I always thought you'd be hairier."

"What? Why?" Walter was geniunely confused.

"I don't know, I just did."

"Are you disappointed?" He knew as soon as the words left his mouth that he wasn't only asking about the amount of hair on his chest.

"No, everything's perfect." She kissed him on the nose, easing his anxiety. "Just perfect." She snuggled closer, pulling the blanket over them. 

"We should probably get dressed before they decide to come back," he suggested. Because if they didn't, he was going to want her again soon. Very soon. 

"Oh, God, I almost forgot we. . ." Paige sounded like she swallowed a sob. Neither of them moved for moment before reluctantly gathering up their scattered clothing.

After they were clothed once more, they stretched out on the mattress, putting their arms around each other. He relaxed then, eventually drifting off to sleep, with her wrapped in his embrace. 

_____

Paige jerked awake at the sound of footsteps in the hallway. She glanced worriedly at Walter, who looked like he had just woke up as well. They scrambled into sitting positions, hoping to keep up the pretense they were still zip-tied. The key turned in the lock, then three of their captors entered the room, two of them carrying trays, the third had a rifle against her shoulder, aimed in their direction. 

Food was placed on their laps, an assortment of pre-packaged items, pudding cups, sandwich halves wrapped in plastic, bottles of water. There were no utensils. 

"How are we supposed to eat this?" Paige asked. 

The woman, the same one from before, looked at the other two people and jerked her head toward the door. They obeyed, leaving the room in silence, taking the trays with them. She took several steps back and glanced up and down the hallway.

"We know you're untied." she said as she lowered her weapon and walked to the end of the mattress. "You're being monitored." She lifted her chin upward at the light bulb. "It's a hidden camera. No sound, just pictures. They don't care if you're not restrained. They're hoping you'll provide more entertainment."

She then pivoted on her heel and strode out of the room, closing the door then turning the key in the lock behind her.

_Oh God_. Paige, who had been so hungry a few moments earlier, now gagged at the thought of a bunch of perverts watching what had been one of the most beautiful experiences of her life. And oh no. . .Walter. . . If she was sick with embarrassment, what he was feeling? She turned to look at him. The expression on his face was unreadable. His hands had formed into tight fists. 

He had no reason for shame. He had been so wonderful. But she doubted he would see it that way.

"Walter?" He didn't even flinch, and she was worried he had retreated into his own private hell. She had to get through to him before he shut down completely. "Walter, please. Don't be upset. It's horrible, I know but. . ."

"It was not horrible." Paige sighed with relief as he finally spoke. "It was beyond anything I have ever imagined," he said through clenched teeth. "But. . .they saw you, they saw you. . .with me. . .they saw your. . . Without warning, he shot to his feet, the food spilling onto the floor. She watched as he jumped up, grasping the bulb with both hands.

"Walter, no." Paige got up onto her knees. "Don't. . ." He yanked it out, sparks flying as the room darkened, leaving dangling wires hanging from the hole. Walter landed awkwardly, dropping the light bulb which shattered when it hit the floor.

And as Paige had feared, the door flew open, and two men rushed at Walter, trying to grab his arms. He resisted their attempts, landing a few punches as they struggled. "You sick bastards," he shouted at them. A third man entered the room as they managed to get Walter under control. He walked right up to the now subdued genius and hit him in the stomach.

"Tie them up, use the cord this time, and clean up that mess," he ordered, pointing at debris on the floor. "Take away the food and water," he said as a fourth person, same woman who had told them about the camera, came into the room. 

Walter had been doubled-over by the unexpected blow and Paige thought he was going to be sick. She gasped as the man, who must be the leader, grasped Walter by the hair, forcing him to look at his face. "Another stunt like that and we will kill you now." He smirked, leaning in closer. "But slowly, and while you watch us have some fun with your slut first. Then we'll kill her so you can watch her die." 

He let go of Walter's hair before straightening up. "Is that what you want?" Walter shook his head. "Well, is it?" The man punctuated his question with another strike to his mid-section.

"NO!" The word flew from Walter's mouth as he landed in a heap on the floor. 

"Good." The man glanced at the others. "Make sure they stay tied up this time." He then quit the room.

Paige fretted as she submitted to being restrained once more, hands behind her back and ankles tightly lashed. They had tossed Walter onto the mattress, where they bound him as well. All the fight seemed to have been drained from him. She wasn't even sure he was conscious.

After they had propped Walter up next to her, the men left the room. The woman, now holding the food and water they hadn't had a chance to eat or drink, gave her a sympathetic look before she departed as well. The key twisted in the lock once again, leaving them in total darkness except for a few slivers of light escaping from around the door. It took a minute or two for her eyes to adjust.

Walter groaned and she immediately shifted closer, wishing her hands were free so she could check him for injuries. "Are you okay, Walter?" 

"Fine," he said, his voice filled with pain. "Maybe a bruised rib. I'll be okay." He struggled to sit up straighter, grimacing with each movement. He turned to look at her. "I'm sorry, Paige. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have done that." 

He glanced up at the ceiling, to the gaping hole and dangling wires above them. "I'm sorry," he said again. "Couldn't stand the thought of them. . .watching. . .seeing you. . . I'm sorry I've made it worse."

"We'll be okay," she said, trying to sound cheerful, but falling dreadfully short. "We're still alive."

"For now," he replied. "Until they change their minds and decide I'm more trouble than I'm worth to them." He stared at her. "If I'm not here to protect you. . ." He stopped himself, trying to clear from his brain the tormenting images of what they would do to her after they disposed of him. 

"Can I tell you something?" she asked.

"Yes." 

"And I want you to know that I don't expect you to say anything back. No pressure. No obligation. Okay?"

"Okay." She had aroused his curiosity, as he had no idea what she was going to say.

Scooting across the narrow gap between them, she pressed her lips to his long enough to send a shiver down his spine before pulling away and smiling. "I love you." she said, before settling herself against his uninjured left side, and laying her head on his shoulder. 

Her words didn't surprise him. He had suspected it for months. And he wanted to say it back. But the words stuck in his throat. He had never told anyone he loved them. Not his friends, his parents, not even his sister. The words would just not pass his lips. 

Leaning his head to rest against hers, he knew he had to come up with a way for her to escape. He had withheld the truth from her earlier. From previous experience, he knew at least one of his ribs was broken, and there was a 75% chance his right lung had been punctured, because it was getting harder to take a deep breath. That could be caused by the rib fracture alone, but he didn't think so. 

This was all his fault. He should have thought of the possibility of a camera monitoring them. But he had been too distracted by being alone with Paige. Not that he regretted a moment of what happened between them. It had made them vulnerable though. 

Because if he didn't receive medical attention soon, his already impossibly low odds of survival would be nil. And those odds were unacceptable. He had to stay alive to protect the woman he loved.


	13. Chapter 13

Cabe walked over to the kitchen and poured two cups of coffee. He carried over them over to the couch where Drew was sitting, watching his son as he slept. The Homeland agent held out one of the mugs. Drew reached out and took the offered beverage. Pulling up a chair, Cabe sat down opposite of the ballplayer.

"Sorry you got caught up in all this," he said before taking a sip.

"It's okay. Worried about Paige, of course. Especially if what you all were saying about that guy is true." Drew gulped down some of his coffee. "I have to admit it's amazing, watching how fast their minds work," he said, changing the subject. "And Ralph is able to keep up." He shook his head. "I still can't figure out how Paige and I produced a genius. I mean, she's pretty smart, but I never cared about school. Sports was my thing. Still is."

"He is a great kid," agreed Cabe. "And don't sell yourself short. I saw those statistic sheets you were working on earlier. I couldn't make heads or tails of them and I've been a baseball fan all my life."

Drew just shrugged. "I know they all hate me," he said, nodded to where the others were working. "I'm not proud of what I did to them, Paige and Ralph. I tried to interact with him, tried to play with him, all the stuff I did when I was kid. He'd just wander off and try to take apart the toaster, or a radio, or something.

"And Paige, she was stressed, working crazy shifts, dealing with Ralph." Taking a deep breath, he continued, "I came home from a ten day road trip. Paige was sitting on the couch wearing a bathrobe, surrounded by piles of laundry. Ralph was sitting in the middle of the room, rolling a gear he'd pulled off one of his toys back and forth over the rug. Paige said he'd been doing that for three hours. Then she burst into tears."

He took another sip of coffee. "I was terrified so I bounced like a coward. Told her I was going to a movie with some of the guys and I'd be back in a few hours. It was seven years."

"But you did come back. That took guts."

"Yeah, but so what? Ralph has told me some of the stuff that happened to them. Not to be mean, I don't think he's capable of that. Just offhand remarks. I want to make it up to them, but I don't know how."

"Well, I've always found the straight forward approach works best. Ask her. Ask him. Then do what they tell you." Cabe stood then, draining his mug.

Drew nodded. "I can do that. Thanks for listening."

"No problem." Gallo patted the younger man on the shoulder. 

"Got it!" Sly's triumphant shout rang throughout the garage. Everyone flocked to his desk. "It leads to an elevator. Found a permit from 1957 when the original owner's children sold the estate and the new owner replaced a wooden staircase that had been condemned."

"An elevator?" asked Cabe. "To where?"

"The beach." Happy and Toby announced simultaneously. "Finally," Toby added, "a millionaire who knew how to spend his money. A secret elevator to. . .well, not the Bat Cave, but fun in the sun."

The mechanic rolled her eyes. "There's a natural grotto under the cliff where it was installed." She turned to Sylvester. "Is there a schematic of the wiring for this place? One should have been filed at the time of any remodels."

"I think I remember seeing one." He hustled over to his computer and started scrolling.

"What are you thinking, Happy?" Gallo asked as a yawning Ralph came up to them carrying Ferret Bueller.

"If we can access the beach, we can use the elevator to get inside the house," she said, her face shining with hope. "I can turn off the alarms and unlock the gate, and if there's a surveillance system, I can shut that down, too."

"Then we can send in personnel using both access points." Cabe nodded. "And they won't know we're coming. Good work, Happy." He pulled out his cell and began punching in numbers. "I'll get on the horn and see if they'll let us back on the case. If not. . . Katherine. . ."

The Homeland agent wandered away as he spoke with the deputy director. Happy went over to her workstation and picked up her bag. "Where are you going?" Toby asked.

"To get my hiking gear," she said, fishing around for her truck keys.

"It's two a.m., no one is going anywhere until the sun comes up." he said. "And wouldn't it be easier to approach by water?"

"No. The continental shelf off the headland extends into the ocean about two miles. And low tide will reach its nadir a little after sunrise. A boat would be worthless. We'd just have to walk through wet sand to get to the beach. If we can even get a boat." She jerked her head in Cabe's direction. "No, it would be easier to hike around the point. So I need my gear."

"Okay. We'll go get your gear." She raised an eyebrow at his statement but just nodded and headed toward the door. Toby followed after her.

"Wait," he said as he walked outside. "You have hiking gear?"

_____

Paige woke up when her stomach grumbled too loudly to be ignored. Then she became aware of a constant jiggling of the mattress. She sat up and watched as Walter appeared to be struggling with something behind his back.

"What are you doing?"

He turned to look at her as he stopped moving. "Unraveling the cord strand by strand. If I can shred it thin enough, I should be able to break free." He took a deep breath then winced.

Alarmed, Paige moved so she could get a good look at his face. He was pale, sweaty, and his breathing was noticeably shallower.

"You're hurting," she stated. "What are you not telling me?"

Walter slumped against the wall. He should have known she would figure it out eventually. He described the extent of his injuries, adding, "The guy who hit me was wearing a glove with enhanced metal knuckles."

"Like brass knuckles?"

"Same principle. Only in glove form." He tried to smile to reassure her, but it became more of a grimace as pain shot through him.

"You shouldn't be moving," she said, her voice full of concern. "You might be driving a piece of your rib deeper into your lung."

"I gotta get us out of here," he said, his words slurring as the edges of his vision grew dim. "Gotta make sure you're safe." He shook his head to stave off the darkness, but it kept coming.

"Dammit, Walter, I'm not some pathetic damsel in distress." He could hear her shouting at him, but her words were growing distant. "We need to think. . .we both can do. . . I'm not helpless. . ." Then the blackness overtook him.

Oh, God, was he. . .? Paige began to panic, cursing that her hands weren't free so she could check for a pulse. She stared at him until she could see the rise and fall of his chest. Thank God, he was still alive. She sagged with relief against the wall. 

Maybe he was onto something though, she thought as she felt the nylon cord binding her wrist. She tried picking at it, but it was so tightly woven, it felt like some kind of metal instead of fiber. Her fingernails made no impact on it. Much to her chagrin, one of them broke when she tried to use it like a saw. She needed something harder. Something with more strength. . .

An idea popped into her head. One that made her pray she was still limber enough to do a trick she learned during her cheerleading/gymnastics days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I am in no way condoning what Drew did. He was and still is a rat bastard. I was a single mother for 12 years without any support at all from my ex. I've been in Paige's shoes and it's not a fun road to walk. And I was lucky enough to have very supportive parents. I'm hoping we get some more backstory in S3 on Paige and why she was so isolated after Drew abandoned her. 
> 
> So even if I've appeared to make him more sympathetic, I still don't like Drew.


	14. Chapter 14

Walter woke with a start. Paige. Where was Paige? Remnants of his nightmare still floated through his mind. They had been hurting Paige, doing things that made him ill to think about. And he had been paralyzed, unable to stop them. He could still hear her pleas for him to help her, pleas that had evolved into screams when he did nothing. 

He tried to sit up, but pain surged through his body, nearly caused him to lose consciousness again. With Herculean effort, he moved his head in Paige's direction. Once his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, he saw she was sitting on the mattress beside him, her knees drawn up to her chest as she rubbed the cords on her wrist against her mouth. Wait. . .something wasn't right.

"How did you do that?" he asked once he had figured out she had somehow moved her arms from behind her back. 

"Oh, you're awake." She had lowered her hands to look at him. "Old gymnastics trick."

"You were a gymnast?"

"Yes, until I grew too tall. There's a reason why those girls are usually short." She smiled ruefully at him. And he noticed the dark splotches that had to be blood on her lips.

"Your mouth's bleeding," he said, as fury flooded through him. "Who did that to you?" He struggled again to straighten up, but his anger was replaced by agony. He groaned as he had to stop moving, his breath slowing to shallow pants. But even then, the pain didn't subside. 

"Walter, it's okay. I'm fine. No one has come in since they. . .you know." She glanced away for a moment before lifting her bound hands. "I've been using my teeth to saw through the cords. I thought my lips felt a little funny." She wiped the back of her left hand across her lips, smearing a dark streak across the back of it. "Oh God, I didn't realize it was that bad."

"You should stop. . ."

"No, I'm not giving up." She shoved the area she had been working on at him so he could see her progress. "Look, I'm about halfway through." She sounded so proud of herself.

As well she should be, he thought. She'd been right before, she wasn't a helpless damsel in distress. And he should probably stop treating her like one. But that clashed against every ideal he believed in. He was supposed to use his genius to help others. He was supposed use it to save lives. He was supposed to protect her, not the other way around.

"Can you show me what you did?" he asked.

"I don't think you should," she said. "Not with your ribs. . . No."

"I have to do something," he said, frustration filling him. "I can't just sit here and do nothing." Images from his nightmare flashed through his head again, the sound of her screams ringing in his ears. "I need to do something."

"Walter," she said patiently. "I know you. And I know this is driving you mad. But you're hurt and you'll only make it worse if you try to do anything and I can't allow you to do that. I'm not arguing with you about this. You're going to sit there and concentrate on not dying while I try to get us free. Okay?"

"Okay." 

She seemed stunned that he had acquiesced so easily. "Good," she said. "You can tell me stories of when you were a boy. . .if you want to, that is. . .while I work on this." She held up her hands.

"I can do that," he agreed, unable to deny her anything she wanted at the moment. "I could tell you about the time I raced my father's tractor against a kid who lived at a neighboring farm."

"I'd like to hear about that." She smiled at him and he could feel himself grinning back. So while she tried to slice through the cord binding her wrists with her teeth, he began to tell his story. . .

_____

"We're back in." Cabe walked over to the table where Happy and Toby had piled the gear they had brought back an hour earlier. "I may have sold my soul to the devil, but they're going to let us be part of the hostage extraction."

"You won't even know it's missing," Toby said with a wink.

Gallo ignored his remark. "We're to rendezvous at 0600 southeast of the estate." He pointed to a spot on one of the maps spread out over the tabletop. "Happy, Toby, you'll go in first to disable the alarms, surveillance, whatever. I'll be with the rest of the Homeland agents. Sylvester, you'll be here running backup for Happy and Toby."

"What about me?" said Ralph. 

They all looked at each other, realizing they forgot about the boy whose mother was, at best, in grave danger, and at worst. . .

"You can stay here and help Sly," offered Toby. 

"But that's all you've let me do." Ralph sounded tired and a bit whiny. "I want to really help."

Drew stepped up and placed his hands on his son's shoulders. "I know you do. I want to help rescue your mom, too." He crouched down in front of the boy genius. "But you're too young and I'm not smart enough. We'd only get in the way. And we don't want that, right?"

Ralph looked his father in the eye. "I don't think you're stupid," he said quietly. "You know about stuff like aerodynamics and anatomy and statistics and strategy. . ." He took a breath. "I'm half you and half mom. By my reckoning, my genius had to come from both of you."

Drew's response was to hug the boy tightly. "Out of the mouth of babes," said Toby solemnly.

Cabe cleared his throat. "We've got roughly two hours to get ready. I suggest we use that time wisely." He pulled his cell from his jacket pocket and began tapping in numbers.

"Cabe, wait," Toby stopped the agent as he started to head toward the door. "I wasn't joking earlier about the likelihood superiors are more liable to be security breaches. Who told you they needed an IT guy? Is wasn't Katherine, was it?"

"No, it was another agent, Richard Heehn. I don't know him all that well. Just to say hello to," said Cabe. "He coordinates with the Secret Service. . ."

His voice trailed off as they all realized that if Walter and Paige didn't make it of this alive, this Agent Heehn was most likely the one who had sent them to their deaths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's an old saying: "Careful or you'll end up in my novel." Although in this case, it's "Careful or you'll end up in my fanfic." *cackle*


	15. Chapter 15

The sound of the key turning in the lock set Paige's nerves on edge, not unlike fingernails on a chalkboard. Quickly, she stuffed her still bound hands under the blanket. Walter was asleep. He had told her stories of his childhood until he grew too weary to continue; funny yet sad tales of a young boy who saw the world much differently than everyone else did. A little boy who was very much like her own son. 

The door opened, throwing a beam of light into the room, and she could hear voices just outside. "We shouldn't be doing this," a man's voice whispered. He sounded young and uncertain. 

"If we don't do it now, you know we'll never get a turn," said another man. He sounded older and bitter. Two silhouettes appeared at the entrance, then the door shut, making the room dark again.

Beside her, Walter shifted in his sleep, murmuring something she couldn't quite catch, then coughed. Something he had started doing when he had been talking to her. It might be just a sore throat, but she knew deep down that it wasn't. 

Suddenly a hand groped her leg and she opened her mouth to scream. A large hand was clamped across her face, muffling the noise. The smell of sour breath filled her nostrils, causing her to gag. 

"You're gonna be nice to us like ya were to this fella." She knew it was the older man who was murmuring into her ear. "You sure showed him a good time."

_Oh God, no_. They must have watched the camera feed and now. . . She struggled to get away from him but then something cold and sharp was pressed against her jaw. She stopped moving. 

"Paige?" 

Walter's voice startled her, causing the knife to bite her skin. Tears started streaming down her cheeks.

"Paige? What's wrong?"

Please be quiet, she begged him silently. Just let them take what they wanted and leave. She was more afraid of them killing him than anything they could do to her. 

She heard a sharp intake of breath then listened worriedly as Walter coughed. "What's wrong with him?"asked the younger guy.

"Does it matter? Unless he's more your type?" The other man snickered. He spoke to Paige once more. "Are ya gonna scream?" She shook her head, wincing as the knife cut into her skin. "Because if you do, we'll kill lover boy here. Are ya gonna let us have what you gave him?" 

Never. She had given Walter her love. They would never have that. 

The blade dug deeper "Well?" She closed her eyes and nodded. 

He removed his hand as the knife was lifted away. The blanket was shoved aside then the cords around her ankles abruptly went slack.

"Paige, no." Walter's quiet plea was followed by another cough, which seemed much worse than the one a few moments earlier. "Don't. . ."

"Greater good." She saw her whispered phrase's impact on him as he stared at her with terrified eyes. He had invoked it so many times himself, always to save others. He thought she wouldn't do the same to save him? 

A long second passed between them, then he closed his eyes and nodded. "Use your hands," he said cryptically.

Use her hands for what? She didn't have a chance to ask as a thud and a grunt of pain came from his side of the mattress. "Walter?" 

"Shut up, both of ya." Their tormentor came around the end of the mattress and loomed over her. Her hands. What did Walter want her to do with her hands? She glanced down at them. They were still tied together, the insides of her wrists pressed against each other. She curled her fingers and suddenly she knew. 

She waited until the older man leaned down, grabbing at her waist. With all her strength, she brought her hands upward, hitting him on the chin like she was bumping a volleyball. Her blow knocked the man backward, causing him to trip over his own feet and crash to the floor. 

The younger man ran to the door, only to have it hit him in the face as it was thrown open. "What the hell is going on in here?" a woman's voice yelled as he staggered back, holding his nose. The room was then filled with light as someone waved around a flashlight.

"Gray, Talbot, what's the meaning of this?" It was the woman from before, standing with a rifle trained on the two intruders. 

Paige watched as the two would-be rapists were dealt with, feeling oddly detached from the whirlwind of activity around her. Walter. Oh, God, what had they done to him? She crawled over to where he was lying on his side. He was conscious and he was staring at her and he was smiling. Why was he smiling? He had to be delirious. 

The woman approached them with a knife, and Paige used her body to shield Walter's. "It's all right," she said. "I'm just going to cut you both loose." She did so with swift accuracy. Paige rubbed her wrists, as pins and needles raced through them.

"Help me with him. Grab the blanket." Paige obeyed the woman's instructions, as they lifted Walter so he was sitting upright again, bolstered by the blanket stuffed behind his back. Once that task was complete, the woman turned to go.

"Wait." The woman stopped. "Please, his ribs are broken, his lung. . ." Paige began before her throat caught and she had to take a deep breath. "He needs medical attention. He's going to die." Tears filled her eyes again. "Please. . ."

The woman shook her head. "I'm sorry," she said. "I've done too much already. A man who loves you as much as he does. . ." She nodded her head toward Walter. "He's not going to want to watch what's going to happen to you in a few hours. It's better this way." With that, she spun on her heel and left. The key turned in the lock once more.

Something inside Paige snapped, unleashing rage and sorrow and helplessness, all fighting to consume her. "Walter, don't listen to her," she sobbed, reaching out and touching his face. "We're going to get out of here. We can't give up. Please. . .'

"Paige." Her heart tore even more as she heard how weak he sounded. She pressed her hand to his forehead. It was hot, much too hot. There was a trickle of blood on the left side of his mouth. His breathing was labored and had a developed a rattle

"She's right," he said, the ghost of a smile still on his face.. 

"No, she's not," Paige insisted, denying the obvious. "We can't give up. . ." It was then she saw the resignation on his face. "No. . ."

"She's right about how I feel." He swallowed convulsively. "I. . .I love you, Paige." His words were barely audible, almost as if they were having trouble passing his lips.

"Oh God, Walter." She couldn't process this. It was just too much to handle. But she had to process it, had to handle it. He may have given up, but she hadn't. "You don't have to say it if you don't mean it."

"I don't say things I don't mean, remember?" Walter chuckled feebly, then coughed violently. "I love you," he said when he could speak again, his words coming in gasps. "I don't have. . . much time left." Paige shook her head, biting her lip. "Yes. You have to escape. If not for yourself, then for Ralph. Remember Ralph, Paige. After I'm. . . You have to be strong, for him. Promise me. . . Please." She nodded.

His vision was growing dimmer and he knew he was about to lose consciousness again, possibly for the last time. Blinking his eyes, he stared at her. She was a mess. Her face was covered with blood and bruises, tears stained her cheeks, her hair wild and untamed. . .

She was resilient and resourceful and kind and generous. She was the most beautiful person he had ever known. And he was glad she and her son had been a part of his life, even if it had been for such a short time.

"Thank you," he whispered as he slipped into unconsciousness.

"Walter? Walter!" Paige looked on in horror as his eyes rolled back into his head. "No!" She placed her fingers on his neck. There was still a pulse, barely.

She sat there, gazing upon him for several minutes, watching each shallow rise and fall of his chest. She didn't want to leave him, didn't want to think of anyone but him, despite her promise. She took a deep breath. But she had to fulfill his dying wish. 

"I know you want me to go," she said, brushing the blood on his lips with her thumb before leaning in to kiss him gently. "But I can't. Not as long as you're still here with me." She curled up against his good side, lifting his limp arm and draping it across her shoulders.

She placed her left hand over his heart. As long as it was still beating, she would stay.


	16. Chapter 16

The beach below the Wildecliff estate was a sheltered cove, with minimal access on either side. Happy and Toby had to hike for three miles, climbing over rocks and wading through the surf along various points of the way. 

"You're like a mountain goat," Toby said as his foot slipped on yet another rock. He was wheezing and his knees hurt and he was perspiring like a pig. She hadn't even broken a sweat.

"Maaa," she said, sticking out her tongue. "If you'd spend some time outdoors instead of in seedy smoke-filled dens of iniquity, you'd be in better shape." She took a drink from her canteen before handing it to him.

"Dens of iniquity." He rolled the last word over his tongue. "It sounds so dirty when you say it. And I thought you liked my shape?" He passed the canteen back to her after swallowing a mouthful of the lukewarm water.

"Perv." Using one hand to shield her eyes from the sun, she pointed with the other to a whitish strip of sand a few hundred feet away. "I think that's it up ahead." 

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he said, looking up at the sky.

"Shut up and come on," she said as she started walking toward the private beach.

"Okay." Toby struggled to catch up. "Can you slow down a bit?"

Happy whirled around, and he took a step back when he saw her face. "No, I will not slow down. Every second we waste, could be the second that. . ." She closed her eyes for a moment, obviously fighting back tears. "Walt is the big brother I never had, and Paige, well, she's kind of like an annoying older sister. She's a pain in the ass but you still l. . ." Her words trailed off as she glared at him. "So no, I will not slow down. I suggest you speed up because I'm not waiting for you."

Toby watched as she spun around and marched off. Wisely, he kept his mouth shut and jogged up behind her, trying to match her nimble steps.

_____

A short while later, they stood at the base of a concrete shaft over 200 feet high. "Whoa, that's a big sucker, ain't it?" Toby tilted his head back, his hand on his hat to keep it from falling off.

Happy ignored him, no doubt still stewing over her earlier outburst. "Standard pass key lock. I don't see an alarm but that doesn't mean there isn't one," she said, walking about the perimeter. "This beach is hard to get to, probably doesn't get too many unwanted visitors. I'd say the odds are in our favor I'm not going to trip something when I pick the lock."

"I concur."

She got out her tools and selected one that slid smoothly into the keyhole. Toby looked at his watch. Ten seconds later, he heard a click He helped her push up the protective metal door that had blocked access to the elevator controls. Happy tapped her com. 

"We're in."

"Copy that," Cabe's voice came over their earpieces. "We've got the property surrounded. ETA on reinforcements on your end is fifteen minutes."

Both Happy and Toby turned to look back the way they had come and could see heads bobbing up and down in the distance. "We can see them," Toby verified. "We're on our way up."

"Copy that. Over." The com went silent. Happy pressed the up arrow on the control panel. She watched as the car lumbered down toward them. 

"You're quiet."

"I am," he said. She had exposed a piece of her heart back there, terrified by the possibility she could once again lose a family she'd come to care for and rely on. And he knew she was angrier at herself than at him for doing so. He'd learned when to back away.

"Listen, Doc, here's the deal," she said, still looking upward. "You do what I tell you, don't ask dumb questions, and if you can manage not to annoy me for the rest of this case, there'll be a special treat in it for you when we're done."

"What kind of special treat? Are we talking ice cream. . .?"

"What did I say about dumb questions?"

"Don't ask them?" He held up his hands. "I haven't agreed yet." She turned to stare at him. "But yes, I accept those terms." Lowering his hands, he wiped them down his pant legs. "I feel like we should shake on it. . .or something."

"Pushing it."

He opened his mouth, thought better of it, which was just as well, because the elevator had finally made it to the bottom. The door glided open and they stepped inside. Happy pressed a button again and the cage shuddered as it started its climb back to the top.

_____

"Sylvester."

Sly glanced up from his computer as Ralph approached his desk. "Do you need something, Ralph? Your dad should be back from Kovelski's soon." 

"Do you think my mom and Walter are going to be all right?" the boy genius asked. He sounded younger than his eleven years and very scared. 

"I'm sure they'll be okay, Ralph," the human calculator replied with false cheerfulness, which evidently did not fool the youngster because he frowned. 

"We should have heard something by now," he said. 

Ralph had a point, Sly conceded. He had no idea how to tell the boy his mother, who had been his whole world for nine years, and the man whom he idolized, who had been more of a father to him than his real father had ever been, would be probably dead in a few hours. . .if they weren't already. The odds were slim any of the group's demands would be met, meaning Walter and Paige's odds were dropping with every passing minute.

"Well, you know what they say," he said, "that no news is good news." He flashed a smile he knew was insincere.

"I don't know if I believe that," Ralph said. "Wouldn't no news just be no news and good news just be good news."

The boy had a good argument. He had never believed in that old adage either. Sometimes no news was bad news. 

"Come here, Ralph." He pulled the youngster into his arms for a backward hug. "Walter has a 197 IQ. And your mom is tougher than the rest of us put together. If I was a gambler like Toby, I'd be putting my money on them. They'll be fine."

"Thanks, Sylvester." Ralph went back over to Paige's desk and started playing the game he had paused on his computer.

Sly sighed. He hated lying.


	17. Chapter 17

The elevator came to a jerky, clunky halt. Happy grimaced. "Damn, too loud. If they've posted guards down here, we've just announced our arrival." She glanced over at Toby. "Get ready to hit the deck, Doc."

With a ominous creak, the door began to slide open. They dropped to the floor and crawled out, waiting until the door squealed closed again. She handed him a penlight before turning on her own. Light flashes revealed nothing in the room except them and the door that Sylvester had discovered.

Armed with the blueprint and schematics Sly had provided, they knew a long hallway with rooms on either side lie just beyond their current position. The mechanic tapped Toby on the arm, and they got to their feet. 

"The utility room is on the other side of this floor," she hissed. 

"Someone must have been down here recently," Toby commented. He shone his light on footprints left in the dusty floor.

"Must have done a quick recon." Happy narrowed her eyes and frowned. "I don't like this. It's been too easy."

"Maybe they figured no one would be insane enough to hike three miles over giant boulders to get here from the beach."

"Was that a dumb question?"

"No, an astute observation." 

She glared at him for a moment before turning away. "Let's go."

They made their way through the lower level of the mansion until they reached the room where the fuse panels were located. "You'd think they would be concerned about their guests' safety," Toby said as he helped Happy search for what they needed. "Who uses fuses anymore?"

"If they cared about their guests, they would have updated their alarm system at least a decade ago." Happy found the circuit breaker for it. "This one is older than I am." She shook her head. "It's not even computerized. Well, here goes."

She unscrewed a fuse, and removed it from the panel. Silence. "Good, no back-up system." 

"One down, two to go," Toby said.

"And no time to waste."

She made easy work of opening the gates, frying the circuits so it wouldn't re-close. A few minutes later, Happy was peering around the corner into a room where two men sat watching surveillance feeds from various locations around the manor. Most of the cameras were aimed down hallways, but it appeared all the public rooms were also monitored, along with supply rooms and the kitchen area.

"We need a distraction," she said. 

"Finally, something I'm good at." Toby adjusted his hat then strolled into the room. "Hey, can you tell me where you're holding my friends hostage?"

The guards spun around in their chairs. "What?" "Who are you?"

"A Harvard trained doctor. Boo!" He spun on his heel then took off running. 

One of the men, the younger and slimmer of the pair, started after him, leaving an older, more rounded man who was about to notify a superior about the intruders. Not today, Happy thought as she entered the room. She grabbed the man's arms and forced them around the back of his chair. Whipping out a zip-tie, she bound his wrists together. 

"Who are you?" the guard ask.

"Shut it," she snapped as she scanned the displays, "unless you want me to gag you too."

The man wisely shook his head. 

"Come on, come on, where are you?" Happy's hands were feeling around the control board as she kept her eyes on the screens. "Hey, why is that one blacked out?" she asked as she indicated a blank square on the upper left hand corner of one of the displays.

"Crazy bastard tore the camera out of the ceiling. Guess he didn't like us watching him getting b. . . Hey, what are you doing?" he objected when she found the panel she was looking for. Popping it free, she accessed the wiring inside, assessed it, then pulled out a handful. 

All the monitors blinked off. "The crazy bastard, where is he?" she demanded.

"Storage room on the third floor," the man replied. "Hey, you said no gag."

"I lied." She pulled the cloth over his mouth and tied a quick knot at the back of his head. "And you better hope that crazy bastard is still alive or I'll come back and be even crazier."

She ran out of the room into the hallway where Toby was walking toward her. "I know where Walt and Paige are," she announced when she stopped in front of him.

"Good." He jerked his head back the way he had come. "Zip-tied and gagged. Yours?" 

"Yes. Walter and Paige. . ."

"Surveillance down?" he asked as if he hadn't heard her. Giving him an impatient nod, she tapped her com. "It's down. Cabe, I know where they are. Storage room on the third floor."

"Copy that," the agent replied. "Now get out of there. I don't want you two caught in the crossfire. Gallo out."

"Copy that," Toby repeated before shutting off his com. "Our work here is done." 

"What about Walter and Paige?" she asked. 

"You heard Cabe, the bullets are about to fly."

"So you'd just leave them because you're afraid of getting shot?"

"I've been shot before, so yeah, I have a healthy fear of being so again." He put his hands on her shoulders. "Happy, the cavalry's here. We'll just get in the way."

"I'm not leaving here without them. It could be another hour or more before anyone would even bother to go look. I don't know about you, but I'm not waiting that long."

Toby stared at the woman he loved as she fought to hold back her tears for the second time that day. "Dammit. Okay," he capitulated. "But if I do get shot, you have to nurse me back to health."

"Deal. Come on."

Momentarily stunned by her speedy acceptance to play nursemaid, he had to run to catch up as she crept down the hallway.

_____

Paige's eyelids fluttered as she tried to remember where she was. Something solid and warm was wedged against her. Warm. . .

Oh God, Walter. Her hand was still splayed over his chest and she could feel his heart beating weakly underneath it. He was alive, at least for the moment. His breathing was so shallow, she couldn't even see his chest move anymore. 

She sagged against him, feeling weak and dizzy. Her throat and mouth were so dry, her lips felt cracked and sore. It had to be close to the deadline. Why didn't they just get it over with? 

A strange sound came from the direction of the door, and Paige tensed until she realized it wasn't the key being turned but a different sound, more like someone was picking the. . .

There was a click, then the door was cautiously opened to reveal Happy and Toby.


	18. Chapter 18

"If this is you two's idea of a romantic getaway, you're doing it wrong." the shrink quipped as he surveyed the room and saw his friends huddled together on a bare mattress lying on the floor.

"Walter has a broken rib and a punctured lung," Paige announced as her face turned pink. But she didn't move away from the genius as he would have expected her to do. She appeared to be clinging to him like a lifeline.

Toby immediately became serious as he crossed the room and saw that Walter was unconscious. "How long ago? How did it happened? Have you done anything to suction. . .?

"I don't know," she wailed, bending under his barrage of questions. "Just help him. I don't know. . ." He could hear the hysteria rising in her voice

"She's breaking down," he said, recognizing the symptoms. "Happy, wrap her up in the blanket and be as nice to her as you can while I examine Walt." He was surprised as she did as he ordered without a word or even an angry glare. 

A cursory check confirmed Paige's amateur diagnosis. "He needs to get to a hospital, pronto," Toby said, wincing as he stared at the contusions on his friend's torso.

"You can't do something. . .?" Happy began to ask.

"I could, but it would take time and equipment we don't have." He tapped on his com. "Cabe?"

"Where the hell are you guys?"the agent's familiar growl sounded in their earpieces.

"Walter needs to be evaced as soon as possible, he's in pretty bad shape." 

"Goddamn it." His tone went from anger to concern in an instant. "We have a chopper on standby. Get him outta there. I'll meet you inside."

"Help me get him on his feet," Toby said. Happy stood, trying to bring Paige up with her. 

"Doc, she's not letting go."

Toby knelt down beside the liaison, who was clutching Walter with all her might. "Paige, you have to let go." She shook her head. "Yes, you do. If we don't get Walter out of here, he's going to die. Do you want him to die?" 

Tears started coursing down her cheeks. He noted a cut near her chin that was going to need stitches and scabs on her lips that looked infected. What the hell had happened to them?

"No," she murmured. "He needs help."

"Then let go."

"Okay." She reluctantly eased her grip on the genius, waiting until the last second to lift her left hand from his chest. Happy helped Paige to her feet, where her legs nearly gave out from under her. 

"Dammit, it's going to take both of us to carry Walt out. If she can't walk. . ." Toby began.

"I can. I can walk." Paige took a tentative step off the mattress then nearly fell on her face. Happy had to catch her again.

"I'll help her out." 

A woman, dressed in paramilitary gear, appeared in the doorway. Both Happy and Toby raised their hands when they saw the weapon in her hands. Paige moved toward the newcomer, nearly toppling over again. 

"Paige." hissed the shrink, wondering what she was thinking. 

"It's all right," she said.

The woman came forward and let Paige lean against her. "Well, are you going to help him or not?" she asked.

Her words set them into motion. They were hampered by the fact that Walter was as boneless as a sleeping cat. Toby shoved his shoulder under the genius's armpit on his injured side while Happy did the same on the other. Then they set out, the woman and Paige leading the way.

"She's messed up pretty bad," Happy said as they moved down yet another hallway. "Almost as bad as Walt."

Toby lifted his eyes and watched Paige limping in front of him, pressing most of her weight onto the militia woman. He had to concur with Happy's analysis. Their ordeal was going to leave more mental scars than physical ones, probably for the both of them.

_____

The woman led them through the maze of corridors, bringing them to a dead end. Toby was about to open his mouth in protest when he noticed the elevator doors.

"It will be easier to get them downstairs this way," she said, pressing the button. "This is as far as I can go. You should be able to carry on from here."

Paige clutched the woman's arm. "Wait," she said. "I don't even know your name."

The woman stared stoically for a moment. "Mary Jo. It's Mary Jo."

"Thank you, Mary Jo," the liaison whispered. "For everything." She gave the woman a hug as Toby and Happy looked on worriedly.

Mary Jo nodded uncomfortably. "You better get going," she said before spinning around and disappearing around the corner. 

Before anyone could say anything, a clunking noise announced the arrival of the elevator. The doors slid open, revealing Cabe, two medics, and a gurney.

"Fancy meeting you here," Toby said as the two men came out to collect Walter. He quickly explained his friend's injuries as the EMTs strapped him down on the stretcher. Happy helped Paige inside then they were slowly making their way to the ground floor. 

As the medics were working on Walter, Toby kept an eye on Paige, who was swaying unsteadily. "Oh, crap," he said as he watched her sink to the floor. "Ammonia," he snapped at the closest man. The EMT rifled through his bag and shoved a handful of packets at Toby, who immediately ripped one open and waved it under Paige's nose.

She started to come to as he checked her pulse. "What's wrong with her?" Happy asked, crouching down next to him.

"Dehydration," he declared angrily. "They must have been without water all this time."

"Looks like it," said one of the medics. He nodded toward Walter. "He's showing signs of it too."

"Bastards," said Toby as the elevator shuddered to a stop. It didn't take long for Walter and Paige to be loaded onto the waiting helicopter and airlifted to the nearest hospital.

Cabe waited until the chopper's noise has subsided to a low roar before addressing the two remaining team members.

"I thought I told you two to get the hell out of there."

"You know we have a problem with authority," said Toby, still holding down his hat so it wouldn't blow away.

"Well, this time I'm damn glad you didn't listen," Gallo replied.

"Ah, Cabe, you're not going to get misty on us, are you?" the shrink inquired.

"Shut it, Doc," Happy and Cabe said at the same time.


	19. Chapter 19

Paige woke to a persistent beeping. Where was she? She reached with her left hand to the space on her right side. Something was missing. Something was wrong. Oh, God, where was Walter? What had they done to him? 

Opening her eyes, it took a few moments to realize she wasn't locked in the room where. . . Something touched her arm and a startled scream escaped her lips. 

"Mom." She turned her head to see her son standing next to her, his small hand on her arm. 

"Oh God, Ralph." Reaching out, she placed her hand on his cheek. "Oh, my baby. I thought I'd never see you again. Where am I?"

"You're at the hospital," the boy said. "They're going to keep you overnight for observation."

"The hospital?" She glanced around, taking in the monitoring equipment, the bland decorations, the slightly nauseating disinfectant smell. "Where's Walter?"

"He's in surgery." Ralph ducked away from the firm grip she had on his face.

"Surgery?" She sat up, causing her head to spin, and she had to close her eyes for moment. Swinging her legs to the side of the bed, she became entangled in all the tubes and wires hooking her up to the machines. 

Ralph ran to the doorway and shouted, "Dad!" Hurrying back across the room, he came to a stop in front of her. "Mom, it's okay. They're just stabilizing the rib fracture. He's going to be okay."

Drew trotted into the room. "Paige, what are you doing? You have to keep that in." 

"No, I have to help Walter," she said, picking at the tape holding down her IV line. "He's hurt. He needs help."

"He's getting help." The ballplayer grabbed her hand. "Ralph, ring for the nurse." 

"Let go." Paige tried to pull away from her ex as her son pushed the com button then spoke to the person on the other end. 

"Paige, there's nothing you can do," Drew said. "Walter's going to be okay."

She fell back onto her bed. "I want to see him." Tears fell down her cheeks. "I just need to see him."

Ralph reached for her hand. "Mom, you can see him when he's out of surgery."

"Okay." Paige closed her eyes as the nurse came bustling into the room, syringe in hand. 

Please let Walter be all right, she prayed as the sedative took affect. She didn't see the anxious looks Drew and Ralph gave each other as she drifted off to sleep.

_____

"Getting real tired of visiting you in sickbay, O'Brien."

Cabe's gruff voice pierced through the layers of fogginess inside Walter's head. He opened his eyes to an unfamiliar yet somehow familiar setting. Hospital. He was in the hospital. Walter glanced around and saw the team surrounding his bed. Everyone except. . .

"Paige? Where's Paige?" It hurt to talk and he realized he had a tube running down his throat. Oh, God, no wonder Megan had hated them so much. It hurt to swallow. It hurt to breathe. It hurt like hell.

"They're keeping her overnight," said Sylvester. 

He tried to sit up. More pain. He needed to see her. Make sure she was all right.

"Settle down, buddy," Toby said. "She's fine. Just some cuts and scrapes and dehydration."

"They'll let me see her, won't they?"

"Yes, she should be on her way right now." Walter saw the worry etched on the shrink's face. Was there something they weren't telling him? Had something happened to her while he'd been unconscious? Panic threatened to engulf him.

And then there she was, being pushed into his room by Drew, with Ralph walking alongside the wheelchair she sat in.

"Paige." "Walter." They spoke each other's names at the same time. Walter strained to get up despite the agony it was causing. He needed to touch her. Make sure she was real. She was trying to move her chair toward him. Then his hand was in hers and his eyes locked with hers. 

Toby watched them stare at each other. "They don't even know we're here," he said, more to himself than the others, but they still heard his words. "The world has shrunk down to just the two of them again. It's a form of PTSD." 

He snapped his fingers. "Hey Walt!" he called out. "Paige?" Neither of them flinched.

"Mom?" Ralph's quiet inquiry jolted both of them. He reached for his mother's free hand then Walter's. 

"Hey, Ralph," the genius said.

"Thanks for taking care of my mom," the boy said.

"She's the one who took care of me," he replied, staring at her again. "She's a. . .remarkable woman."

The room grew silent again until Cabe cleared his throat. "You'll be glad to know the President was rescued unharmed and Agent Heehn's been arrested," he said. "He's been the militia's inside guy for a couple of years now. Guess he held a grudge against me and my team of ‘supernerds'. Thought it would take the wind of my sails if Scorpion was accused of treason. I hardly even knew the guy." 

He shook his head before glancing at Walter and Paige. "Well, that simple assignment I sent you two on exploded into something else, didn't it?" he said, no doubt trying to lighten the mood.

"It was. . .uh. . .momentous." Walter gazed at Paige, who dipped her head shyly as she blushed. 

"What I can't figure out is why they beat you so badly," said Toby. "What did you do to piss them off?"

"Nothing." Both Walter and Paige answered at the same time. The shrink narrowed his eyes as if he knew they were lying. 

"We should let Walter get his rest." Sly said.

Drew walked up behind Paige. "Yeah, I have a flight this afternoon."

That caught Walter's attention. "You're going back to Portland?" The ballplayer nodded before attempting to move Paige's chair back.

She clamped her hand onto the bed rail. "I want to stay for a moment with Walter," she said. "Alone."

"I don't know if that's a good idea," Toby said.

Happy grabbed his arm. "Butt out, Doc. Remember our deal?"

"Which one?" She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, that one. We'll see you later." He half walked, half was pulled from the room by the mechanic.

The others said their goodbyes then filed out as well, leaving Walter and Paige by themselves. "I was so worried, " she said. "They wouldn't let me see you. . . I had dreams, nightmares really, and you were. . .you were. . . 

"I had the same nightmares, except it was you. . ." Walter tightened his grip on her hand. "I meant what I said. That I. . .I love you."

"I didn't think you would remember. You were delirious and I just thought. . ."

"No, I remember. Every word. Every moment. Everything."

They sat in silence for a few moments, and he noticed the bandage on her chin, the red and puffy sores on her lips. "You're okay?"

"Yes, just minor injuries. The dehydration was the worst. I talked to your doctor and she said you'd be here several days yet. And you're going to be okay. . .and. . ."

She burst into tears. He stared in horror as she cried. He hated to see her cry. Especially because of him.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry," she said, sniffling as she wiped her eyes. "It's. . .It's. . . I love you so much, Walter. And I don't want to lose you. I was so scared. . ."

"You were so brave, Paige." He squeezed her hand again. 

She shook her head. "No, I wasn't. Not really. When Toby and Happy arrived. . .you weren't awake. . . I kinda went to pieces. I tried, though. . .I tried to stay strong, but then. . . " 

"You are brave," he reiterated. "You are strong. I am so proud of you." The need to hold her overwhelmed him and she must have felt the same way, because she pushed herself up out of her chair. He pulled her toward him as he carefully moved to his right, leaving a narrow strip of space beside him in the bed..

"I can't," she protested weakly as she sat down on the mattress.

"Yes, you can." He put his arm around her as she settled against him. The anxiety that had filled him since he had awakened dissipated and he could feel her relax as well. Walter closed his eyes and let himself drift off.

"Hey, Paige, ready to go back. . ." Toby stumbled to a stop just inside the room. Neither occupant of the bed stirred at his intrusion. They were both sleeping peacefully, Walter's arm around her shoulders, Paige's hand resting on his heart. 

Damn, it was worse than he thought. PTSD, separation anxiety disorder, Stockholm syndrome. He was going to have to set them up with a therapist he knew. Not a smart as he was, of course. But someone who could help his friends cope with their ordeal. Because they were going to need all the help they could get.

Toby sighed as he covered them up with a blanket then quietly left the room.


	20. Chapter 20

**One Week Later**

"No wonder kids aren't good at math. These instructions are pathetic." Sylvester was sitting at the table in the kitchen, eating yogurt and reading what looked like Ralph's fifth grade math book.

"If they're so bad, maybe you should write your own textbook," Toby said absently as he sat on the opposite corner of the table. He was feeding Ferret Bueller bit and pieces from a bowl of breakfast cereal as he stared across the garage at Walter and Paige.

"There's something different about them," he muttered under his breath.

Sly glanced up from the book. "They have PTSD. You said so yourself."

Toby didn't answer as Happy walked up to the refrigerator. "Why are you letting that dirty animal sit on the table?" she asked as she got a bottle of juice.

"He's not dirty." the shrink replied. "I just gave him a bath this morning."

"I wasn't talking about the ferret, Doc." She smiled before she uncapped her drink and took a sip.

"Very funny."

"What's wrong with him?" she asked Sylvester.

"He's been staring at Walter and Paige for the past ten minutes."

"There's something different about them that I just can't put my finger on," said Toby, holding out a raisin. Ferret Bueller grabbed it with his paws and began nibbling on the dried fruit with his tiny, sharp teeth.

"They have PTSD," said the mechanic, echoing Sly's earlier response. "I don't have to be a Harvard trained psychiatrist to know that."

Toby shook his head. "No, it's something else." He continued to watch as his boss and the liaison interacted with each other. Paige was frowning as she pointed at something on Walter's computer screen. A few minutes later, she touched the genius on the arm when he got to his feet then they shared a whispered conversation. Walter then placed his hand on Paige's shoulder for a brief moment. 

"Oh my God." 

"What?" Happy and Sylvester said at the same time.

"Nothing. I thought I left my stove on, but then I remembered I never turn on it." He slid off the table and faced Happy. "I did turn something else on, though."

"Ew." Sly picked up his yogurt and left the kitchen. 

"I agree. Ew." Happy sat down in the chair vacated by the human calculator.

Toby plopped down in the seat next to her. "Did I ever tell you how I really enjoyed my special treat?"

"Yes. And if you mention it again here at work, I will kill you."

"Fair enough." He turned so he could once again observe Walter and Paige who were now staring intensely at each other, which only confirmed his suspicion. She smiled as she lightly touched the other man's hand before walking over to her desk. Walter's eyes followed her the whole way, straying downward until she sat down, and even then they remained focused on her. 

The awkwardness between them was different, he noted. There was an added element of intimate awareness their previous interactions had lacked. Toby smiled. At least one good thing had come out of their ordeal. Walter O'Brien had finally gotten laid. It was about damn time.

_______

Paige strolled over to Walter's desk, setting a mug down on it. The scent of cinnamon filled the air and he smiled. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"A little sore," he admitted, knowing she would find out the truth anyway. "I'll be okay, though. Thanks." He took a sip of the coffee.

"Just don't overdo it. It's only your first day back." She glanced around the room. "Why is Toby staring at us?"

"Because he's an idiot." Walter fished a business card of his shirt pocket. "Did he give you one of these?"

She took it from him. "Yeah, Doctor Rizzuto,"she said. "I don't know why he thinks we need to see a therapist. It's silly. I feel fine."

"Me, too," Walter lied. Every second he was away from Paige, he felt anxious, worried something would happen to her and he wouldn't be there to protect her. He couldn't sleep and if he did, vivid nightmares woke him up, leaving him sweating and shaking. Glancing up at Paige, he noticed the dark circles under her eyes her makeup couldn't hide and knew she was lying, too.

"So, ah, have you finished your report yet?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Almost," he said as he resumed typing. She moved closer to his chair so she could read over his shoulder.

"Wait," she said, pointing to the screen, "you think Mary Jo is a federal agent?"

Walter frowned. "Who's Mary Jo?"

"The woman who helped us." 

"Oh." He wondered how she had learned the woman's name. "Yes, I think she's a government mole. Why else would she help us like she did?"

"I thought she felt sorry for us," she said. "Maybe she didn't like seeing us being bullied and beaten and. . ." She pressed her lips together as her face paled. "I don't think she's a fed."

Images of the bastard who had put his filthy hands on Paige flashed through his mind. The same helpless rage that had burned through him then threatened to consume him again. Taking a couple of breaths, he put the finishing touches on his account. 

"Maybe not," he conceded as he hit save then print. He got to his feet, intending to retrieve the report from the communal printer, but Paige's hand on his arm stopped him. 

"Did you erase it?" she murmured softly. 

"Yes, I hacked into the security feeds and deleted it permanently. No trace anyone else had made a copy."

"Thank goodness. I can't even imagine if someone saw. . ."

"No one else ever will, I promise." He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, surreptitiously sliding his fingers down her arm then lifting them away before he did something totally inappropriate, like taking her into his arms and kissing her senseless.

He made the mistake of looking at her lips, saw the tip of her tongue slid between them. His breathing grew erratic and he noticed hers did as well. Lifting his eyes, he could tell she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Then his right side twinged with pain, and he had to swallow a gasp. The doctor had told him no strenuous activity for three more weeks. Which certainly counted out the specific activity he had in mind at the moment. 

"I, uh, I better get my report," he said. He took a step toward the printer, only to have Paige move in the same direction. She smiled and touched his hand.

"I should get to work," she said. Neither of them moved for a few seconds, then she spun around and walked to her desk. Walter watched her go, his eyes straying downward to observe the swaying of her bottom.

Once she was seated, she smiled at him before turning her attention to a pile of papers. Walter glanced away to see Toby grinning at him like an idiot. Dammit, who knew what the genius psychiatrist had read into the scene he had just witnessed. Probably something spot on and none of his business.

Reaching his hand into his trouser pocket, he felt the thumb drive he had placed there earlier that morning. . .before he had erased the video feed. His promise to Paige still held true. No one else was ever going to see it.

_____

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am writing a sequel. Actually it's going to be a trilogy of "shocking" stories. I love trilogies. Continuing stories in general, really. I'm feeling kind of sad this one is finished. I really enjoyed writing it and hope everyone has enjoyed reading it.


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